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7 


^^^-^^^if^^'^^n.^^ 


Ireland  and  the  Irish. 


JLJECTf/JRJEJS 


I  linill  ill  ifilllPlY, 


N.  BURKE,  0.  F. 


LYNCH,    OiMJ^y  k    Iv1l|gt45r    0^   ^evmi\.X    STREET 


m 


-*? 


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>^.- 
'^•(- 


Ireland  and  the  Irish. 


JLECTUnJES 


ON 


IBISS  IISTOflT  m  BIOSBAFIT. 


BY 


Very  Rev.  THOMAS  N.  BUME,  0.  P. 


Mitj^  an  ^pp^nirijT, 


CONTADnNG  WENDBLL  PHILLIPS'  PAITEGYBIO  ON  O'COMNELL,  THE  "TRBATT  OV 
LlHBaiCK'*  AMD  ITS  YlOLATIOM,  HiSIOBICAL  NOTES,  ETC. 


I^EW   YORK: 

LYNCH,    COLE   &   MEEHAN,    67   MUBRAY   STEEET. 

1873. 


Entered  aooording  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  1878,  by 

.  LYNCH,  COLE  &  MEEHAN, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington! 


Stereotn>ed  at  the 
WOMBN^S     PRINTINa     HOXTSB, 

S6,  68  and  60  Park  Street, 
New  York. 


^\^ 


INTRODTTCTION". 


Thb  Lectnres  compiised  in  the  present  yolnme  (the  second  of 
*'  The  Irish- American  Library,")  will  be  found  probably  the 
most  interesting  of  those  delivered  in  America^  by  the  Very  Rev. 
T.  N.  Burke,  the  eloquent  Dominican  preacher.  While  not  pos- 
sessing the  more  piquant,  though  less  permanent  attraction, — spring- 
ing from  the  dash  of  intellect,  and  the  very  novelty  of  the  contest, 
— which  attached  to  the  discourses  in  reply  to  Mr.  Froude,  at  the 
period  of  their  delivery,  these  lectures, — majij  of  which  are  now 
for  the  first  time  given  to  the  public  in  a  revised  and  permanent 
form, — are  not  less  important  and  interesting,  especially  to  the 
Irish  people  in  America,  as  illustrations  of  the  National  History 
and  character  of  their  race  ;  while  as  specimens  of  most  eloquent 
and  poetic  word-i)ainting,  they  are  infinitely  superior,  in  style  and 
rhetorical  finish,  to  the  "Froude  Lectures."  They  constitute, 
indeed,  a  complete  epitome  of  the  history  of  Ireland,  from  the  era 
when  the  "  Sacred  Isle,"  in  the  enjoyment  of  freedom,  prosperity 
and  civilization,  afforded  a  home  and  welcome  to  the  learning  and 
piety  of  the  old  world,  down  to  those  later  and  terrible  years,  when 
her  children,  oppressed  and  impoverished,  driven  from  their  native 
home,  and  forced  to  seek  in  other  lands  a  refuge  from  tyranny  and 
misgovemment,  carried  with  them,  in  their  exile,  into  every  clime, 
the  traditions  of  the  virtue  and  patriotism,  the  valor  and  genius  for 
which,  under  all  circumstances,  the  Irish  race  has  been  distin- 
-  guished.  Nothing  in  human  eloquence  can  be  more  beautiful  than 
the  pictures  which  Father  Burke  draws  of  the  peace  and  sanctity 
whioh  dharaoterized  Ireland  in  the  "golden  age"  that  soooeeded 


6  INTRODUCTION, 

her  conversion  to  C^iristianity ;  and  even  the  narration  of  the 
gloomy  and  terrible  scenes  by  which  that  national  repose  was  sup- 
planted, daring  the  thousand  years  of  war  and  desolation  that 
followed  the  Danish  and  Norman  invasions,  is  illumined  by 
flashes  of  heroism  and  manly  achievement,  which  relieve  the  other- 
wise dark  and  sombre  limning  of  the  picture,  and  show  to  the  world 
the  example  of  a  noble  race  gallantly  struggling  against  the  most 
adverse  fate,  and  even  in  its  direst  misfortunes  and  calamities, 
commanding  the  respect  and  sympathy  of  humanity. 

The  lectures  on  "  The  Historic  Euins  of  Ireland,"  "  The  Exiles 
of  Erin,"  and  "  Irish  National  Music,"  are,  in  their  class,  unique 
and  unrivalled  as  illustrations  of  the  genius  and  character  of  an  an- 
cient and  long-suffering  nation ;  while  in  the  biographical  sketches 
of  "St.  Columbkille,"  "St.  Laurence  O' Toole,"  the  leaders 
of  the  "Volunteer  Movement  of  '82,"  and  "O'Oonncll,"  the  most 
perfect  types  are  presented  of  the  representative  men  of  the  vari- 
ous important  epochs  into  which  the  history'  of  Ireland  may  be 
divided,  for  the  last  fifteen  hundred  years.  Altogether  these  lec- 
tures may  be  truly  said  to  be  the  finest  secular  work  of  the  great 
Dominican  orator,  and  can  never  oease  to  possess  a  high  value  in 
the  estimation  of  a  people  who  set  so  much  store  by  the  records  of 
their  past  history  and  national  glory,  aa  do  the  scattered  children  of 
the  Irish  race. 


CONTENTS. 


PAcn 
LiFB  AND  Times  of  O^Ck>imBLL 9 

The  Histobio  Buins  of  Trbuhtd 80 

The  ExiiiES  of  Ebin     - .       , 61 

The  National  Music  of  Ireland 89 

St.  Laurence  O'Toolb .  117 

The  "Volunteers  of  '82." 141 

BODERIC  O'GONOR,  THE  LAST  MONARCH  OF  IRELAND  .  .   163 

St.  Patrick .        .       .  176 

The  Irish  nr  their  Belation  to  Catholicity         .  .  203 

St.  COLUMBKIMiB 225 

The  National  Character  of  the  Irish  People      .  .  244 

Ireland's  Faith,  the  Triumph  of  the  Aob  .       .       .  263 

APPENDIX. 

WteNDBLL  Phillips'  Panegyric  on  O'Connbll   . 

The  Treaty  of  Limerick  .       .       .       . 

Notes 827 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


« THE  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  O'CONKELL." 

(A  Lecture  delivered  by  the  Very  Bev.  T.  y.  Burke,  0.  P.,  on  Mon- 
day, May  13iA,  1873,  in  the  Academy  of  Music,  New  York.) 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen  :  The  history  of  this  age  of  ours 
tells  of  many  men  who  have  used  their  energies  and  theii* 
powers  for  the  purpose  of  enslaving  their  fellow-men,  and 
for  the  purposes  of  injustice  and  persecution.  This  age  of 
ours,  however,  has  had  the  grace  to  produce  one  man  who 
received  from  a  grateful  nation  the  proudest  title  that  ever 
was  accorded  a  man ;  he  was  called  the  "  Liberator  of  his 
country."  I  need  not  mention  his  name  :  his  name  is  writ- 
ten upon  the  history  of  the  world,  under  this  grand  title  of 
"  Liberator ; " — his  name  is  enshrined  in  every  Irish  heart, 
and  in  the  memory  of  every  irishman,  under  the  glorious 
title  of  the  *'  Liberator."  When  we  hear  that  word,  those 
among  us  who  are  advancing  into  the  vale  of  years,  remem- 
ber, as  he  seems  to  rise  before  them,  at  the  sound  of  the 
namerof"the  "  Liberator,"  the  colossal,  gigantic  figure ;  the 
brows  overladen  with  mighty  thought ;  the  Irish  eye, 
beaming  with  intelligence  and  with  humor ;  the  uplifted 
arm,  emphasizing  every  glorious  maxim  of  freedom  and  of 
religion :  and  at  the  sound  of  the  word  "  Liberator,"  we  be- 
hold, rising  out  of  his  grave  and  standing  before  us,  as  he 
once  stood  and  held  sway  over  millions  of  Irishmen,  the 
glorious  figure  of  Daniel  O'Connell. 

There  is  nothing,  my  friends,  that  ought  to  be  more  grate- 
ful or  more  instructive  to  every  high-minded  man  than  to  re- 
call the  deeds  by  which  a  man  gained  that  well-deserved 
1* 


10  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

glory ;  for  such  a  man  not  only  binds  to  his  own  brow  the 
crown  of  immortal  fame,  but  he  also  leaves  behind  him,  for 
the  consideration  of  those  who  come  after  him,  a  glorious 
example  of  manliness,  integrity,  and  virtue.  These  virtues 
should  be  the  study  of  every  man  among  us ;  and  never  can 
we  study  them  more  favorably,  than  when  we  see  them  em- 
bodied in  the  life  and  the  acts  of  one  who  dazzled  the  world 
by  the  glory  of  his  genius,  and  left  behind  him,  in  the  hearts 
of  his  fellow-men,  traditions  of  mighty  admiration  and  ten- 
derest  love.  Who,  therefore,  was  this  man?  For  whom 
did  he  contend  ?  By  whom  was  he  crowned  with  this 
glorious  title  of  the  "  Liberator  of  his  country  ?  " 

Oh  I  my  friends,  before  we  sketch  his  life,  it  is  well  for 
us  to  cast  our  thoughts  back  some  eighty  years,  and  consider 
what  Ireland  was  at  the  close  of  the  last,  or  the  18th  cen- 
tury. It  seemed,  indeed,  as  if  the  closing  of  the  century 
should  have  been  bright  and  peaceful  and  happy ;  it  seemed 
as  if  the  sun  of  Ireland  had  risen  at  last,  and  that  the  night 
of  the  18th  century  would  have  passed  into  the  roll  of  ages, 
under  the  full  blaze  of  noontide  prosperity  and  happiness  for 
Ireland.  In  1782,  eighteen  years  before  the  final  close  of 
the  century,  there  was  in  Ireland  a  reunion  of  the  grandest 
intellects,  and  the  brightest  names,  that  perhaps  ever 
adorned  the  pages  of  our  national  history.  The  walls  of  the 
Parliament  House,  in  College  Green,  resounded  to  the  glo- 
rious appeals  of  a  Grattan  and  a  Flood ;  while  the  stately 
and  dignified  Charlemont  upheld  the  honor  of  the  nation  in 
the  Irish  House  of  Lords.  They  demanded  of  England  a 
full  recognition  of  Ireland's  rights,  and  of  Ireland's  indepen- 
dence as  a  nation.  Their  voices  were  heard,  and  were  un- 
heeded ;  until,  in  a  happy  moment,  the  necessities  of  the 
times  obliged  England  to  permit  an  organization  of  armed 
Irishmen,  called  the  "  Volunteers  of  '82."  The  men  of  Ire- 
land took  arms  into  their  hands  ;  and  it  is  well,  that,  Catho- 
lics as  we  are,  we  should  not  forget  that  this  glorious  move- 
ment originated  among  our  Protestant  brethren  of  the  North 
of  Ireland.  The  men  of  Ireland  took  arms  in  their  hands ; 
and,  when  Grattan  spoke  agsrin,  he  spoke  with  a  hundred 
thousand  armed  and  drilled  Irishmen  at  his  back  ;  and  Eng- 
land was  obliged  to  listen  and  to  pay  the  greatest  attention 
to  his  words.  He  demanded  the  charter  of  Ireland's  inde- 
pendence ;  and  he  obtained  it,  because  he  sp\>ke  in  the  name 


^'THB  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  O'CONNELL:'      H 


of  an  organized  and  an  armed  nation.  He  arose  in  the  House 
of  Commons ;  and  he  pronounced  these  words :  "I  found 
my  country  in  the  dust ;  I  raised  her  up.  She  stands,  to- 
day, in  her  queenly  independence ;  and  nothing  remains  to 
me  but  to  bow  before  the  majestic  image,  and  to  say  esto  per- 
petua, — be  thou  perpetuated  in  thy  freedom,  O  Ireland  !  " 

Fair,  indeed,  and  bright  was  the  vision ; — industry  devel- 
oped, trade  encouraged,  magnificent  buildings, — such  as  the 
Four  Courts  and  Custom  House,  of  Dublin, — erected,  and 
the  people  speaking  with  a  nation's  voice :  fair  and  bright 
was  the  prospect ;  only  it  was  too  bright  to  last.  The  Irish 
Parliament,  at  last,  consented  to  take  some  steps  for  the 
emancipation  of  their  Catholic  countrymen,  so  that  all  the 
nation  mi^t  enter  into  the  act  of  .legislation;  to  have  no 
laws  made  by  class  or  caste,  but  by  all  men  who  had  the 
name  and  the  privileges  of  Irishngien.  It  was  too  bright  to 
last. 

The  English  Government  took  thought.  The  following 
year  saw  a  strange  Viceroy  sent  over ;  the  following  year 
the  insidious  "  Army  Act "  was  introduced ;  the  pressure 
and  apprehension  of  war  was  taken  from  England ;  and  the 
moment  her  hands  were  free,  she  turned  around  to  rivet  the 
chains  upon  Ireland's  form.  The  "  Army  Act "  was  passed ; 
and  then  the  Irish  Parliament  had  only  to  stop  the  voice  of 
Grattan  and  every  patriotic  man.  By  that  act  it  was  de-« 
clared  illegal  for  every  Irishman  .to "carry  arms;  and  the 
"Volunteers  were  disarmed.  No  sooner  were  the  arms,  the 
guns  and  artillery  taken  from  them,  and  these  strong  men 
deprived  of  their  arms,  than  England  at  once  began  a  sys- 
tematic persecution  of  the  Irish  people  with  the  express 
intention  of  goading  them  into  rebellion,  and  thereby  fasten- 
ing the  chains  which  she  secured  about  them.  One  act  fol- 
lowed another.  In  1794,  Earl  Fitzwilliam  was  made  Lord 
Lieutenant  of  Ireland.  He  arrived  in  the  country  in  Jan- 
uary. He  was  the  friend  of  Ireland,  and  of  Ireland's  son, 
the  immortal  Grattan.  As  soon  as  ever  the  English  Govern- 
ment discovered  that  this  man  intended  to  rule  Ireland 
justly,  he  was  instantly  recalled;  and  the  people  who 
greeted  him  with  shouts  of  joy  in  January,  accompanied 
him  with  tearful  eyes,  as  he  took  his  departure  on  the  25th 
of  March  of  the  same  year.  Then  followed  act  after  act  of 
tyranny  and  oppression.     In  vain  did  Grattan,  Curraii,  and 


12  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

the  immortal  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald,  who  was  then  in  the 
Irish  Parliament,  protest  against  these  cruel  acts.  At 
length,  finding  that  Government  was  determined  to  destroy 
the  people,  if  possible,  in  the  year  '97,  Grattan  arose  in  the 
Irish  Parliament,  and  said :  "I  have  offered  you  measures 
for  the  happiness  of  Ireland,  and  you  have  refused  them. 
You  propose  measures  for  the  misery  of  Ireland,  and  you 
will  carry  them.  I  have  no  more  use  or  business,"  he  said, 
"  to  remain  in  this  House ; "  and  the  aged  patriot  departed 
from  the  House,  followed  by  Arthur  O'Connor,  Lord 
Edward  Fitzgerald,  and  a  few  others,  who  left  with  despair 
in  their  minds  and  with  aching  hearts. 

Then  came  the  dawn  of  1798,  when  Kildare  and  some  of 
the  midland  counties  made  a  miserable  and  unsuccessful 
attempt  at  revolution.  Heroic  Wexford  arose ;  the  stalwart 
men  of  the  hill-sides  of  Wexford  arose.  Unarmed  as  they 
were, — or  armed  only  with  the  armor  of  their  infinite 
bravery, — they  stood  out  for  dreary  months  against  the 
united  power  of  England ;  until,  at  length,  the  rebellion,  as 
it  was  called,  was  suppressed,  after  the  slaughterplthe  peo- 
ple. A  ferocious  foreign  soldiery,  and  the  Yeomanry,  were 
let  loose  through  the  land;  tortures  were  inflicted  upon 
innocent  and  unoffending  men  and  women,  worse  than  ever 
Cromwell  inflicted  upon  the  people  of  Ireland;  and  '98 
closed  upon  the  nation  trodden  in  the  blood-stained  dust, 
and  with  minds  and  hearts  utterly  prostrated  and  broken 
under  the  iron  heel  of  the  enemy. 

And  this  O'Connell  saw,  during  the  years  '98  and  '99. 
He  listened,  day  after  day,  night  after  night,  as  John  Phil- 
pot  Curran  stood  alone  between  the  tyrant  upon  the  bench, 
— the  blood-stained  and  ferocious  Norbury, — and  the  poor 
prisoner,  so  often  innocent,  in  the  dock ;  with  a  loud,  heroic, 
though  fruitless  voice,  vindicating  the  principles  of  eternal 
justice  and  the  majesty  and  purity  of  the  law.  The  heart  of 
the  nation  was  broken  in  '98,  and  nothing  remained  but  for 
the  infamous  Englisli  Minister  to  work  his  will  upon  the 
people  of  Ireland.  That  man  was  called  Lord  Castlereagh. 
He  cut  his  throat  afterwards;  and  it  used  to  be  a  standing 
toast  in  the  west  of  Ireland,  even  within  my  recollection, 
for  two  or  three  friends,  when  they  met  together,  to  feel  in 
duty  bound  to  fill  their  glasses  and  give : — "  Here's  to  the 
strop  that  put  the  keen  edge  on  the  razor  that  cut  Castle- 


''THE  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  OCONNELL:'     13 

reagh's  throat."  He  bribed  tlie  Irish  members  of  Parlia- 
ment with  money,  or  bribed  them  with  titles ;  he  practised 
the  vilest  arts  of  corruption  that  could  be  suggested  by  his 
own  wicked  mind  and  corrupted  heart ;  and  he  carried,  jiist  at 
the  beginning  of  this  present  nineteenth  century,  the  measure 
which  has  been  the  ruin  of  Ireland,  namely,  the  abolition  of 
the  Irish  Parliament,  and  the  union  of  the  two  countries 
under  one  Legislature.  It  was  in  vain  that  Grattan 
thundered  against  this  iniquity  with  his  heroic  voice.  It 
was  in  vain  that  Fitzgerald,  Kendall  Bush,  and  other  great 
Irishmen  of  the  day,  spoke,  in  language  that  is  immortal  for 
its  eloquence  and  for  its  justice,  in  the  cause  of  their  coun- 
try and  their  country's  national  existence.  Everything  was 
borne  down  and  flooded  with  English  corruption  and  bribery. 
And  this  act  was  passed,  by  which  Ireland  was  deprived  of 
the  power  to  make  her  own  laws ;  and  a  nation  hostile  to 
her,  and  determined  upon  her  corruption  and  ruin,  was  com- 
missioned to  make  laws  for  Ireland.  The  act  was  passed. 
It  has  been  the  apology  for  every  cruelty,  and  every  injustice 
that  we  have  suffered  from  that  day  to  this;  the  accursed 
act  of  Union,  by  which  Ireland  lost  her  power. 

Among  the  bribes  that  were  held  out  to  the  Irish  people 
to  let  this  Act  pass,  there  was  one,  and  it  was  a  promise 
that  was  given  then,  that  the  Catholics  should  be  emancipat- 
ed. No  sooner,  however,  was  the  Union  passed,  than  Wil- 
liam Pitt,  the  Prime  Minister  of  England,  betrayed  hisJaith, 
and  broke  his  word  with  Ireland ;  and  when  he  had  received 
the  gift  of  our  existence  into  his  hands,  he  laughed  at  us  in 
the  face,  and  mocked  us  as  fools,  for  trusting  him.  And  a 
fool  is  every  Irishman  on  the  face  of  the  earth  that  trusts 
England  and  England's  Parliament,  or  that  imagines  for  a 
single  moment  that  the  English  Government  or  the  English 
Parliament  will  ever  give  justice,  or  equal  laws  to  Ireland, 
unless  they  are  obliged  and  coerced  by  the  fear  of  arms.  If 
the  Volunteers  of  '82  had  kept  their  guns,  Pitt  would  have 
kept  his  word. 

And  now,  my  friends,  what  was  the  position  of  Ireland 
when  O'Connell  first  appeared  in  the  history  of  our  country  ? 
Bom  in  1775,  he  was  called  to  the  bar,  in  Dublin,  in  1798: 
it  was  only  five  years  before — that  is  to  say,  in  1793 — that 
the  Penal  Law  was  relaxed,  so  that  a  highly  educated  Cath- 
olic gentleman  was  allowed  the  privilege  of  earxung  his  bread 


14:  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH, 

as  a  lawyer.  We  first  find  him  while  the  question  of  the 
Union  was  being  agitated.  He  attended  a  meeting  in  the 
Com  Exchange  of  Dublin.  It  was  composed  exclusively  of 
Catholics,  mostly  professional  men.  They  came  to  discuss 
the  question  of  Ireland's  existence,  and  to  protest  against  the 
Union.  It  will  give  you  some  idea  of  how  things  were  car- 
ried on  in  those  days.  As  I  told  you,  no  sooner  was  the 
meeting  assembled  in  the  Corn  Exchange,  than  the  tramp  of 
soldiers  was  heard  outside;  and  in  swaggered  Major  Sirr,  the 
town-major  of  Dublin,  at  the  head  of  his  troops.  He 
marched  around  the  hall  and  surrounded  the  meeting.  He 
then  conmianded  his  men  to  ground  their  arms ;  and  down 
went  the  heavy  guns  of  the  Hanoverian  and  English  sol- 
diers. "  Now,  gentlemen,  you  may  begin  your  discussions," 
said  he.  But  every  man  there  knew  that  his  very  life  was 
at  the  mercy  of  that  blood-stained,  unmerciful,  hard-hearted 
man.  There  was  no  liberty  of  thought,  much  less  of  speech ; 
a  man  could  not  call  his  soul  his  own  in  those  days.  And  it 
was  under  these  circumstances,  in  the  presence  of  Major  Sirr 
and  his  soldiery,  that  O'Connell,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life, 
spoke  a  word  for  Ireland.  He  tells  us  that,  what  between 
the  intimidation  and  the  threats, — ^what  between  the  ejffect 
of  this  intimidation  and  his  position  as  a  young  man,  he  felt 
as  if  his  heart  would  break  with  anxiety  and  fear  while  he 
was  speaking. 

Now  the  Union  is  passed.  Ireland  is  annihilated ;  and 
the  only  hope  for  Ireland  now, — as  it  was  our  only  hope  for 
three  hundred  years  before, — was  the  strength  and  power  of 
Ireland's  faith, — Ireland's  Catholicity,  which  was  still  alive. 
There  it  was,  still  unconquered  and  unconquerable, — the  only 
element  of  life,  the  only  element  of  courage,  the  seedling  of 
national  regeneration  which  was  left  to  us, — our  holy  faith, 
to  which  we  clung  in  spite  of  persecution  and  blood  for  three 
hundred  years.  But  this  powerful  element  lay  dormant  in 
Ireland.  A  "  Catholic  Board,"  as  it  was  called,  was  formed  in 
Dublin.  A  body  of  Irishmen  came  together  to  try  and  agitate 
for  Catholic  Emancipation  in  the  British  House  of  Commons, 
in  London,  as  in  the  Irish  House  at  home  ;  and  they  found 
a  glorious  advocate  in  the  great  Henry  Grattau.  Year  af- 
ter year  he  brought  forward  his  motion,  praying  the  Legis- 
lature to  strike  off  the  chains  from  the  Irish  Catholics; 
year  after  year,  he  met  with  overwhelming  majorities  against 


''TEE  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OFjy CONNELLY      15 

him ;  and  his  appeal  and  his  cause  were  laughed  to  scorn  in 
the  British  Parliament.  In  vain  did  Plunkett  take  up  that 
glorious  theme ;  in  vain  did  the  immortal  Edmund  Burke, — 
England's  greatest  philosopher  and  statesman;  Ireland's 
greatest  son,  whose  name  shall  live  forever,  in  the  annals 
of  the  world's  history,  for  every  highest  gift  of  genius  and 
virtue ; — in  vain  did  Burke  and  Fox,  with  all  the  English 
statesmen  of  mind,  advocate  the  claims  of  the  Irish  Catho- 
lics. They  got  no  hearing ;  there  was  justice  for  every  man ; 
there  was  consideration  for  every  man ;  there  was  respect 
for  every  man,  until  it  was  discovered  that  he  was  a  Catholic 
and  an  Irishman  ;  and  then  there  was  not  for  him  even  the 
courtesy  of  a  hearing,  but  only  the  laughter  of  scorn.  They 
had  conquered  us  :  and  they  thought  they  could  despise  us. 
They  imagined,  because  we  were  conquered,  we  were  degrad- 
ed. The  "Catholic  Board"  of  which  I  speak,  in  Dublin, 
was  afraid  to  raise  its  voice.  Those  who  befriended  us 
were  liberal  Protestants ;  and  many  glorious,  liberty-loving 
patriots  there  were  among  them.  God  forbid  that  I  should 
forget  it. 

The  great  masses  of  the  Irish  people, — ^^then  amounting  to 
nearly  eight  millions  of  men, — were  crushed  into  the  earth, 
and  were  afraid  to  speak,  tinder  the  tyranny  of  a  hostile 
government,  under  the  tyranny  of  their  cruel  and  unjust 
landlords,  the  Catholic  party  were  afraid  to  speak.  Grattan's 
voice  was  unheeded  :  he  was  refused  a  hearing  in  the  House. 
Now,  the  Almighty  God,  in  His  mercy  to  Irishmen,  lifted 
up  a  man,  gigantic  in  form,  gigantic  in  intellect,  heroic  in 
courage,  strong  in  feiith,  tender  in  heart,  immaculate  in  his 
purity,  who  was  destined  to  shake  the  Irish  race  into  self- 
assertion  and  energy ;  who  was  destined  to  rule  these  peo- 
ple and  to  lift  them  from  the  ground,  to  put  a  voice  upon 
their  lips  and  make  their  hearts  throb  again  with  glorious 
excitement  and  high  hope.  O'Connell  arose,  alone,  to  head 
the  Irish  people ; — with  the  grasp  of  an  athlete,  to  strangle 
every  man  that  arose  against  these  people.  Alone,  he  rose 
to  lead  a  prostrate  nation  high  up  the  rugged  road  of  liberty ; 
until  he  led  them  to  kneel  before  a  free  altar,  and  burst  the 
bonds  that  bound  them.     Alone  had  he  to  do  it. 

In  1813,  he  took  the  charge  of,  and  a  leading  place  in,  the 
**  Catholic  Association."  At  that  time,  mark  the  difficul- 
ties he   had  to  contend  with:— he  had  a  people  afraid  to 


16  IBELAND  AND  THE  lEISH, 

speak ; — ^he  had  an  arLstocracy  opposed  to  him  to  a  man ;  he 
had  the  great  landed  interest  of  England  and  the  English 
people  opposed  to  him  to  a  man ;  he  had  the  English 
Catholics  opposed  to  him ;  he  had  a  government,  that  was 
watching  him,  crossing  him,  day  after  day,  with  persecu- 
tions; arresting  him,  now  on  this  charge,  now  on  that; 
accusing  him  now  of  having  said  this,  and  then  of  having 
said  that.  He  had  men  watching  for  his  life.  He  had  to 
conquer  the  false  friend  and  the  open  enemy,  defy  the 
Government,  defy  the  Bench  and  the  Bar ;  he  had  to  take 
the  pistol  in  his  hands,  bitterly,  though  his  Catholic  heart 
regretted  it :  he  had  actually  to  commit  a  tremendous  crime 
in  the  cause  of  Ireland.  He  was  prosecuted,  for  some  say- 
ings of  his,  with  Bichard  Lai  or  Shiel :  the  Grand  Jury 
threw  out  the  bills ;  there  was  no  case  against  them.  Find- 
ing that  they  could  not  entrap  him  into  the  meshes  of  the 
law,  which,  with  a  superhuman  genius  and  prudence,  he  was 
able  to  evade,  a  murderer  was  put  upon  his  track.  As  of 
old,  when  they  found  fchey  were  unable  to  conquer  Owen 
Boe  O'Neill  with  the  sword,  they  put  poison  in  his  drink  ; 
so,  when  they  found  they  could  not  conquer  O'Connell  by 
the  laws,  they  set  a  murderer  upon  his  track.  The  whip 
of  D'Esterre  was  lifted  to  strike  the  magnificent  form  of 
Ireland's  best  son.  What  could  he  do  ?  Insulted  over  and 
over  again,  that  life,  that  was  so  precious  to  Ireland,  he  freely 
risked  for  Ireland.  I  do  not  justify  him.  No.  Nor  does 
he  ask  me  from  his  grave  in  Glasnevin  to-night,  nor  from  his 
place  in  Heaven,  to  justify  him.  Even  as  St.  Peter,  for  his 
one  denial  of  his  Master,  wept  every  day  of  his  life,  so 
O'Connell,  for  his  one  moment  of  forgetfulness  of  his  Catholic 
duties,  wept  every  day  of  his  life.  Yet  what  could  he  do  ? 
Young,  brave  as  a  lion,  confident  in  his  strength  and  in  bis 
dexterity,  he  accepted  the  challenge ;  and,  on  a  fine  morn- 
ing, Mr.  D'Esterre, — who  threatened  to  flog  O'Connell,  and 
wanted  to  fight  him, — took  a  cab  and  drove  out  to  Lord 
Cloncurry's  place,  about  ten  miles  outside  of  Dublin;  and 
there,  on  a  field  of  an  estate  called  Lyons,  he  met  Daniel 
O'Connell.  Now,  D'Esterre  thought  he  was  sure  to  win,  as 
he  was  a  small,  thin,  miserable  little  man,  like  an  attenuated 
herring,  long  out  of  the  sea ;  and  it  seemed  that,  to  hit  him, 
a  man  should  be  able  to  shoot  a  rat  at  half  a  mile ;  while 
O'Connell  was  a  fine,  full,  burly,  mountain  of  a  man.     To 


^'THE  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  0' C0:^NELL:' 


y 


fire  at  him,  was  something  like  firing  at  a  haystack.  Then, 
again,  D'Esterre  was  a  dead  shot ;  and  O'Connell  was  con- 
sidered to  be  a  far  more  formidable  man  with  the  pen  than 
with  the  pistol.  I  have  my  account  of  this  from  old  men^ 
who  were  on  the  ground  that  morning.  They  said  there  was 
deliberate  murder  in  D'Esterre's  eye,  as  he  took  his  aim. 
O'Connell  simply  stood  there  for  Ireland;  he  could  not  keep 
his  hold  of  the  people  (considering  the  genius  of  the  time) 
unless  he  met  that  man,  and  fought  him.  He  lifted  his 
pistol,  apparently,  carelessly ;  but  he  threw  the  light-gray  eye 
along  it.  Two  reports  were  heard.  The  whistling  ball 
passed  before  O'ConnelPs  eyes :  but  D'Esterre  lay  on  the 
ground;  and  he  never  got  up  again.  Major  McNamara,  of 
Clare, — a  Protestant  gentleman,  who  had  fought  a  great 
many  duels  in  his  time, — was  on  the  ground.  He  came  up 
to  O'Connell,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  said — "  I  declare 
to  Heaven,  Dan,  it  was  the  neatest  shot  that  ever  was  made. 
If  ever  I  am  to  meet  my  man  again,"  said  the  Major,  **  I 
hope,  if  he  is  to  strike  me  at  all,  he  will  do  it  neatly.  It  is 
almost  an  honor  to  be  killed  so  beautifully." 

The  "  Catholic  Association,"  formed  under  O'Connell, 
grew  under  his  genius.  The  Catholic  aristocracy  of  Ire- 
land,— ^the  Bellews,  the  Trimblestons,  the  Fingals, — were 
shocked  when  they  heard  this  man  speak.  They  were 
frightened ;  they  were  afraid  to  speak  to  the  English  people 
at  all ;  they  were  afraid  to  petition  Parliament.  Even  John 
Keogh  and  the  democratic  portion  of  the  Catholics  of  Ire- 
land were  for  maintaining  what  they  called  "  a  dignified 
silence,"  which  means  a  silence  that  proceeds  from  fear. 
Out  came  O'Connell  as  brave  as  a  lion.  He  knew  no  fear. 
He  attacked ;  he  did  not  petition.  He  attacked  the  men  at 
the  head  of  the  State.  He  called  them  every  vile  name  he 
could  think  ofl  One  man  was  called  a  "  pig  ;  "  another  "  a 
perjurer ;  "  another  was  told  to  "  get  out  of  that !  "  another 
was  called  a  "  bloated  buffoon ;  "  and  so  on.  And  these 
grand  English  statesmen, — who  thought  they  could  walk  or 
ride  rough-shod  over  all  Ireland, — found  to  their  amaze- 
ment, that  there  was  ian  Irishman  who  not  only  was  not 
afraid  of  them,  but  who  gave  them  nick-names  that  stuck  to 
them  for  the  rest  of  their  lives.  When  the  Catholib  people  of 
Ireland  found  that,  somehow  or  other,  a  lion  had  got  in 
among  them, — a  lion  rampant,  roaring  for  his  prey ; — ^when 


18  IRELANT)  AND  THE  IEI8E. 

they  found  that  there  was  one  Catholic  man  in  the  land, 
speaking  their  own  language,  glorying  in  identity  of  race 
with  them, — that  made  every  man  afraid  of  him, — even  to 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  at  that  time  (George  IV.  afterwards), 
— they  plucked  up  courage,  they  raised  their  heads;  and 
they  asked  themselves  was  the  world  coming  to  an  end  !  for, 
what  was  going  to  be  done  with  this  man  ?  But  when  they 
found  that  this  man  had  a  genius  and  eloquence  that  nothing 
could  withstand  ; — when  they  found  that  the  cause  of  justice 
and  of  truth,  on  this  man's  lips,  meant  the  tremendous  cause 
that  would  shake  the  world ;  when  they  found  the  Catholic 
nations,  France,  Spain,  Austria,  Italy,  sympathizing  with 
this  man,  admiring  his  genius,  translating  his  speeches  into 
their  tongues,  and  proclaiming  him  one  of  the  gi*eatest  men 
of  the  age, — Ireland  began  to  feel  confidence  and  pride  in 
O'Connell.  Now,  I  say  that  Ireland's  confidence  and  pride 
in  O'Connell,  from  the  year  1810  to  the  year  1829,  was  her 
salvation.  He  roused  the  clergy.  The  priests,  even,  were 
afraid  to  speak  ;  there  was  not  a  clerical  voice  to  be  heard 
in  the  cause.  The  bishops  were  afraid  of  their  lives ;  if 
they  spoke,  it  was  with  bated  breath,  as  men  who  are  only 
permitted  to  live,  who  are  winked  at  in  order  that  they 
might  be  tolerated  in  the  land.  He  roused  the  clergy  ;  he 
sent  them  among  the  people ;  he  commanded  them  to  preach 
a  gospel,  second  only  in  its  sacredness  to  the  Gospel  of  our 
holy  religion, — that  ia  the  gospel  of  Ireland's  glorious 
nationality. 

And  thus  it  came  to  pass,  that,  in  the  year  1813,  George 
Canning,  the  great  English  statesman,  was  glad  to  propose 
a  measure  for  the  emancipation  of  the  Catholics  of  Ireland. 
And  now  comes  O'Connell  again  in  all  his  glory  before  us. 
Canning  prepared  his  bill.  The  Catholics  of  Ireland  were 
to  be  emancipated  ;  they  were  to  be  allowed  to  enter  all  the 
professions ;  they  were  to  be  allowed  to  enter  Parliament ; 
they  were  to  be  allowed  to  mount  the  Judicial  Bench  as  the 
Judges  of  the  land ;  they  were  to  be  allowed  to  legislate  for 
themselves  and  for  their  people ;  all — ally  upon  one  condi- 
tion ;  and  that  was,  they  were  to  allow  the  English  Govern- 
ment what  was  called  "  The  power  of  the  veto ; "  which  I 
will  explain  to  you.  Whenever  a  Catholic  priest  was  to 
be  made  a  Bishop,  his  name  was  to  be  sent  to  Rome ;  and  if 
the  Pope  approved  of  him,  then,  instead  of  making  him  a 


''THE  LTFtS  Am)  TIMES *0F  O CONNELLY      19 

Bishop,  out  of  hand,  he  was  to  send  back  his  name  with  the 
nomination;  and  the  moment  a  man  got  his  nomination, 
instead  of  going  to  the  Archbishop,  and  getting  him  to  con- 
secrate him,  he  was  to  send  the  nomination  to  the  Secretary 
of  State,  and  the  Secretary  of  State  was  to  submit  it  to  the 
Council  of  English  Lords,  and  the  Lord  Chancellor  of  Eng- 
land, or  the  Irish  Lords,  and  the  Lord  Chancellor  of  Ire- 
land ;  and  fchey  were  to  examine  this  man,  and  see  whether 
he  was  worthy  to  be  a  Bishop.  They  were  such  good 
judges,  they  knew  all  about  that !  In  all  probability,  if  the 
bill  had  passed,  Lord  Norbury,  of  whom  you  have  heard, 
would  have  been  one  of  these  examining  Lords,  examining 
a  priest  in  his  theology.  And  if  they  disapproved  of  a 
man, — in  other  words, — if  they  found  him  a  true  Irishman ; 
if  they  found  he  had  one  spark  of  love  foi"  his  country  in 
him, — they  were  to  put  their  "  veto,"  upon  him ;  and  the 
Pope  was  to  have  no  power  in  the  matter.  You  understand 
what  it  meant.  They  wanted  to  exclude  from  the  Episco- 
pate of  Ireland  such  men  as  the  immortal  Dr.  Doyle,  or  the 
great  John  McHale,  of  Tuam ;  they  wanted  to  make  Bidiops 
only  of  men  who  would  lie  down  at  their  feet,  and  be 
trampled  upon ;  who  would  tell  the  people  that  there  was 
no  such  word  as  freedom  in  the  Gospel. 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  at  the  time  when  Canning's 
Bill  was  proposed,  with  "  the  Yeto  "  attached  to  it.  All  the 
English  Catholics  said,  "  Oh,  yes ;  that  will  be  very  well." 
All  the  Irish  "  respectable  "  Catholics,  with  a  very  few  Irish 
Catholic  Lords,  and  a  few  Irish  Catholic  Knights,  were  in 
favor  of  the  "  Yeto."  "  Why*  not  ?  "  they  said ;  «  we  will 
all  be  glad  to  be  emancipated  on  any  condition."  Some  of 
the  Irish  Catholic  Bishops  admitted  it.  And,  worst  of  all, 
the  Pope  was  then  a  prisoner,  in  France :  Napoleon  had 
him  a  prisoner.  Affairs  in  Home  were  managed  by  a  high 
functionary,  whose  name  was  Quarantotti;  and  this  high 
prelate,  when  he  got  the  draft  of  Canning's  bill,  and  read 
it, — such  was  the  state,  of  slavery  in  which  we  were,  all  the 
world  over ;  persecuted  everywhere, — ^that  the  Pope's  repre- 
sentative actually  wrote  to  Dr.  Poynter,  Catholic  Bishop  of 
London,  and  to  the  Irish  Bishops,  telling  them  to  accept  the 
"  Yeto  "  and  emancipation  with  it.  The  moment  O'Connell 
heard  this, — he  who  had  risen  against  the  Orangeism  of 
Ireland,  rose  like  an  angry  giant,  and  told  the  Iiish  Bishops 


20  IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRISm 

and  the  Irish  priests, — aye,  and  Rome  itself, — ^that  that  "Veto 
never  should  be  admitted  into  Ireland.  He  came,  exulting 
like  a  giant  in  his  strength,  and  thundered  at  the  door  of 
the  English  Parliament,  and  said,  "  Emancipation  and 
freedom  without  any  conditions !  "  "  We  are  no  longer 
slaves,"  he  said ;  "  we  are  no  longer  beggars.  We  come 
and  demand,  and  insist  upon  emancipation,  without  any  con- 
dition whatsoever  to  bind  it." 

Now,  my  friends,  what  gave  O'Connell  this  power?  I 
answer  that,  by  this  time,  O'Connell  had  organized  the  Irish 
people  in  their  parishes.  He  had  made  them  join  the  *'  As- 
sociation." He  had  fixed  a  tax  of  a  penny  a  month  upon 
every  Catholic  man  in  Ireland.  It  was  not  the  penny  he 
was  looking  for,  but  for  the  man's  name.  He  got  them  all 
enrolled  in  the  "Association;"  he  got  the  priests  to  know 
all  the  men  who  were  associated ;  he  got  the  people  to  know 
one  another ;  he  published  their  numbers  to  them ;  he  told 
them  the  secret  of  their  strength ;  he  had  the  priesthood  of 
Ireland, — the  parish  priests,  the  curates,  the  friars, — with 
him,  to  a  man.  No  "  Veto  "  for  them.  Why  ?  For  many 
reasons.  I  will  not  speak  now  of  the  effect  of  that  legisla- 
tion (if  it  had  passed)  upon  the  Church.  I  will  not  speak 
of  it  as  affecting  her  liberties.  But  what  was  more  natural 
than  that  every  honest  priest  in  Ireland  should  oppose  the 
Veto  ?  because  he  must  have  said  to  himself,  "  What  chance 
have  I  of  ever  being  made  a  bishop  ?  "  Canning,  though 
the  friend  of  Ireland,  was  told  to  keep  his  Emancipation  Act. 

Things  went  on.  The  Irish  people,  every  day  increasing 
in  their  numbers,  affiliated  with  the  Catholic  Association ; 
every  day  feeling  their  way,  feeling  their  strength.  The 
thundering  voice  of  the  mighty  O'Connell  went  through  the 
land.  He  went  here  and  there  through  the  country:  he 
sacrificed  his  profession  and  all  its  vast  gains,  and  he  de- 
voted himself  to  marshalling  the  people ;  until  at  length, 
things  were  brought  to  such  a  pass  that  when  Lord  Welling- 
ton, the  conqueror  of  Waterloo,  and  the  bitterest  Tory 
enemy  that  ever  Ireland  had, — when  Wellington  came  into 
power,  sworn,  if  be  could  help  it,  never  to  do  anything  for 
the  Irish  Catholics,  and  having  a  King,  the  basest,  vilest, 
the  most  polluted  of  men,  the  infamous  George  IV.,  at  his 
back,  who  swore  that  he  never  would  grant  anything  to 
Irish  Catholics, — O'Connell  had   so  marBhalled  the   inah. 


''THE  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  O'CONNELL:'      21 

nation,  that  the  man  who  had  conquered  Napoleon  at  Water- 
loo was  obliged  to  acknowledge  that  O'Connell  had  beaten 
him ;  and  he  went  to  the  King  and  said  :  "  If  you  will  not 
emancipate  the  Catholics  without  any  condition,  and  give 
them  their  freedom,  you  will  have  a  revolution  in  Ireland." 
It  was  not  for  love,  it  was  not  for  justice,  that  this  Act  was 
granted.  Never,  since  the  day  that  Richard  Strongbow, 
Earl  of  Pembroke,  set  foot,  with  his  Normans,  upon  the 
soil  of  Ireland, — never  from  that  hour  to  this,  has  England 
granted  us  one  iota  of  justice,  except  under  the  influence  of 
craven  fear. 

The  year  1828  came.  Wellington  came  into  power;  and' 
the  Catholic  Association,  like  men  who  had  now  learned  to 
speak,  passed  a  decree  that  no  man  that  accepted  office  under 
Lord  Wellington  should  be  returned  to  Parliament,  for  any 
borough  or  any  county.  There  was  a  member,  at  the  time, 
for  the  county  of  Clare ;  a  very  good  mail ;  a  very  estimable 
and  agreeable  man  ;  and  his  father  was  really  a  great  man,  a 
true  patriot.  This  man's  name  was  Vesey  Fitzgerald :  and 
he  accepted  office  under  the  Duke  of  Wellington's  Govern- 
ment. That  obliged  him  to  go  back  to  Clare  to  ask  the 
people  to  re-elect  him.  The  people,  at  that  time,  were 
altogether  in  the  hands  of  the  landlords :  and  when  the  day 
of  the  election  came,  they  were  called  together,  not  even 
being  given  their  breakfast  before  they  left ;  and  the  bailiff, 
and  the  land  steward,  and  the  landlord  drove  them,  as  you 
would  drive  a  flock  of  sheep,  to  give  their  votes.  So,  every 
landlord  could  say  to  another,  "  I  have  so  many  votes ;  how 
many  have  you  ?  "  The  people  had  no  voice  at  all,  except 
just  to  register  their  votes.  Vesey  Fitzgerald  was  a  popular 
man.  He  came  back  to  Clare  for  re-election ;  when,  like  a 
thunder-clap,  came  the  words  of  O'Connell:  "I  am  going 
to  stand  for  Clare,  and  be  elected  to  Parliament  from  it." 
The  British  Government  was  silent  with  utter  amaze- 
ment and  astonishment  at  the  audacity  of  the  man.  The 
whole  world  stood  confounded  at  the  greatness  of  his  cour- 
age. He  went  down  to  Clare.  The  priests  came  around 
him.  He  raised  his  standard,  inscribed  "  Freedom  from 
landlord  intimidation ! "  "  Every  man  has  his  own  con- 
science, and  his  own  rights ; "  and  by  a  sweeping  majority 
of  the  honest  and  manly  Irishmen  of  the  County  Clare, 
O'Connell  was  returned. 


S2  IRELAND  AND  THE  IBISH. 

While  they  were  discussing  the  terms  of  emancipation; 
while  they  were  asking  each  other  could  thes^  allow  Cath- 
olics the  privilege  of  returning  members  to  Parliament,  of 
their  own  religion;  while  they  were  trying  to  devise  how 
they  would  neutralize  it,  how  they  would  keep  it  out ;  in- 
spite  of  all,  this  big,  huge  man  walks  in  on  the  floor  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  returned  as  member  from  Clare.  He 
advances  to  the  table  to  take  the  oaths  of  allegiance  and 
loyalty.  The  Clerk  of  the  House  of  Commons  rose  to  put 
the  book  in  his  hands  to  swear  him.  "  What  am  I  to  be 
sworn  to  ?  "  "  To  swear  this."  He  reads :  "  The  sacrifice 
of  the  Mass,  the  veneration  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary  and 
the  Saints,  is  damnable  idolatry."  O'Connell  replied: — 
"In  the  name  of  two  hundred  millions  of  men;  in  the 
name  of  eight  millions  of  the  Irish  race;  in  the  name  of 
antiquity ;  in  the  name  of  history  ;  in  the  name  of  the  God 
of  Heaven,  the  God  of  truth,  I  reject  that  oath ;  for  it  is  a 
damnable  falsehood ! "  He  found  a  "  Veto,"  with  a  ven- 
geance, lying  before  him ;  and,  as  he  would  not  have  the  Act 
of  Emancipation,  with  a  "  Veto,"  tacked  on  to  it,  so  he 
would  not  sit  down  in  the  House  of  Parliament  with  an 
infernal  lie  on  his  lips. 

Three  times  was  the  Act  of  Catholic  Emancipation  put  be- 
fore the  English  House  of  Commons ;  and,  sorely  against 
their  will, — because  the  Prime  Minister  and  his  associates  in 
the  Government  told  them,  with  trembling  lips,  "  You  must 
do  it.  The  Iiish  are  prepared  for  revolution !  You  must 
doit!  They  will  sever  the  connection  altogether!  They 
will  break  up  the  Empire  !  " — they  passed  it.  It  went  be- 
fore the  Lords.  For  three  days  they  held  out  against  it, 
vomiting  out  their  bigotry.  "  No  !  no  I  rather  die  than  do 
it !  No !  "  "  But  you  must  do  it  1 "  was  the  answer.  The 
Irish  people  had  found  a  man ;  that  man  had  united  them 
as  one  man  ;  and,  now,  O'Connell  represented  Ireland  ;  and 
O'Connell  stood  at  the  door  and  told  them  "  You  must  do 
it !  "  The  bill  passed  the  Lords  and  Commons ;  and  Welling- 
ton took  it,  on  bended  knee,  and  offered  it  to  George  the 
Fourth.  The  King  refused  to  read  it.  "  You  must  read 
it!"  He  read  it.  <*  Never!"  "You  must  do  it?  It 
cannot  be  helped  !  "  He  took  the  pen  in  his  hand, — and  he 
burst  into  tears!  He  did  not  weep  when  he  broke  the 
heart  of  his  wife,  and  declared  her  an  adulteress.     He  did 


"  TTTE  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  CfCONNELL.''      23 

not  weep  at  the  ruin  of  every  form  of  innocence  that  ever 
came  before  him, — that  was  destroyed  and  polluted  by  his 
unholy  touch.  He  did  not  weep  when  he  left  Richard 
Brinsley  Sheridan,  his  own  friend,  to  die  of  starvation  in  a 
garret  in  London.  He  had  no  tears  to  weep.  He  had  no 
heart  to  feel.  The  bloated  voluptuary! — he  was  never 
known  to  weep  in  his  life,  only  when  he  was  signing  the  bill 
of  Emancipation ;  and  then  he  wept  the  devil's  tears.  The 
Act  was  passed  and  declared  law  on  the  13th  of  April,  1829; 
and,  to  use  the  eloquent  words  of  my  brother  in  religion, 
Lacordaire,  "  Eight  millions  of  Irishmen  sat  down  in  the 
British  House  of  Commons  in  the  person  of  Daniel  O'Con- 
nell."  And  yet,  mark  the  spite,  the  deliberate  spite  of  the 
Government.  After  the  Act  of  Emancipation,  they  would 
not  let  him  take  his  seat,  until  he  had  to  go  back  to  Clare  to 
be  re-elected.  After  the  Act  of  Emancipation  was  passed, 
they  made  a  number  of  barristers — English  barristers — 
King's  Counsel — members  of  the  bar ;  and  while  the  young 
men — ^young  counsel — received  this  privilege, — the  head  of 
the  Irish  bar — the  head  of  the  Irish  people  was  denied  it. 
They  thought  to  vent  their  spleen  on  him,  and  leave  him  in 
the  background ;  as  if  he  could  be  left  in  the  background, 
whom  the  Almighty  God  brought  forth. 

And  now,  my  friends,  the  great  crowning  act  of  his  life 
being  thus  accomplished,  he  did  not  rest  one  moment ;  but 
he  turned  his  thoughts  to  the  second  great  object  for  which 
he  lived.  And,  indeed,  it  was  scarcely  the  second  but  the 
first,  viz. :  the  Repeal  of  the  Union.  Some  people  in  Ire- 
land— and  elsewhere — think  that  the  Repeal  of  the  Union 
was  an  afterthought  of  O'Connell ;  that  he  did  not  intend  it 
in  the  beginning ;  that  he  never  thought  of  it  until  he  had 
coerced  them  into  emancipating  the  Catholics.  It  is  not  so. 
Twenty  years  before  Catholic  Emancipation  was  passed, 
O'Connell  declared  that  he  would  labor  to  the  last  hour  of 
his  life  for  the  one  purpose  of  repealing  that  accursed  Union. 
Even  in  Grattan's  time — (and  Grattan  lived  until  1820) — 
even  in  Grattan's  time,  the  Catholics  of  Ireland  had  already 
petitioned  for  the  Repeal  of  the  Union,  and  Grattan  told 
them :  "  If  ever  you  Catholics  of  Ireland  rise  up  in  your 
united  strength,  you  will  get  the  Repeal  of  the  Union,  or 
anything  else  England  may  have  it  in  her  power  to  bestow 
upon  you." 


24:  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

From  1829  until  1839, — for  a  period  of  ten  years, — 
O'Cortnell  sat  in  the  British  Parliament,  opposed  to  all  the 
rivalry,  all  the  opposition,  all  the  contempt,  that  the  bigotry 
of  English  Protestantism  could  bring  to  bear  upon  him. 
Every  man  in  that  House  hated  him  as  the  devil  is  said  to 
hate  holy  water.  But  he  stuck  to  his  own  courage,  and  his 
own  tri(i  of  giving  names.  Stanley,  the  late  Earl  of  Derby, 
rose  to  oppose  him,  and  he  turned  upon  him  in  this  way : 
"  Sit  down,  scorpion  Stanley !  "  And,  until  Stanley  went 
to  his  long  home,  he  was  known  by  the  name  of  "  Scorpion 
Stanley.''  Disraeli  attacked  him;  and  O'Connell  turned 
round  and  said :  "  Oh,  here  is  a  Jew ;  a  lineal  descendant  of 
the  impenitent  thief  that  refused  to  be  converted  on  the 
cross."  Mr.  Sugden,  the  Chancellor,  deprived  him  of  the 
magisterial  power.  O'Connell  called  him  "  the  man  with  the 
ugly  name :  "  and  whenever  he  spoke  of  him,  or  replied  to 
him,  he  never  alluded  to  him  by  name,  but,  in  his  supreme 
wit,  O'Connell  would  say,  he  should  have  said,  as  "  the  man 
with  the  ugly  name "  has  observed.  And  so,  by  his  un- 
daunted courage,  by  his  wit,  by  his  tremendous  argumenta- 
tive power,  and  by  his  swelling  eloquence,  he  crushed  the 

■  opposition  of  the  English  House  of  Commons ;  and,  as  he 
had  opened  the  door  by  the  power  of  his  genius,  he  held  his 
footing  there  by  the  same  genius:  untO,  in  a  few  years,  the 
fate  of  the  two  great  parties  of  England  was  in  the  hands  of 
O'Connell.  O'Connell  and  his  "tail,"  as  it  was  called,  com- 
manded such  influence,  that,  on  any  great  question  afiecting 
the  existence  of  the  government,  the  Premier  of  England 
always,  in  his  necessity,  came  to  O'Connell  to  beg  him  to 
have  pity  on  the  Government,  and  not  to  turn  them  out  of 
office. 

And  now  the  great  Repeal  agitation  began  to  take  form 
and  symmetry.  He  who  had  united  Ireland  as  one  man  in 
the  sacred  cause  of  religion,  united  them  again,  as  one  man, 
in  the  cause  of  nationality.     From  end  to  end  of  the  land 

r  he  travelled  ;  and  wherever  he  appeared,  the  enthusiastic 
heart  and  manhood  of  Ireland  gathered  around  him.  .Oh, 
how  grandly  does  he  rise  before  my  imagination  now !  Oh, 
how  magnificent  is  the  figure  that  now  looms  up  in  the  lialls 
of  my  memory,  as  I  look  back  to  that  glorious  year  of  18^, 
— the  "  Repeal  year  "  of  Irelancl !  He  stands  within  the 
honored  walls   of  Dundalk,  and  three   hundred   thousand 


''THE  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  0' CONNELLY      25 


Irishmen  are  around  him.  Not  a  voice  of  discord ;  not  a 
word  of  quarrelling ;  not  a  single  jarring,  even  of  thought ; 
not  a  drunken  man :  not  a  criminal  among  the  three  hun- 
dred thousand  of  Ireland's  stalwart  sons !  He  stands  upon 
the  Hill  of  Tara !  He  stands  by  "  The  Croppy's  Grave  ; "  and 
he  has  there  upon  the  slopes  of  that  hill,  two  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  men, — a  quarter  of  a  million  of  Irishmen  be- 
fore him.  Oh,  who  was  able  thus  to  unite  Irishmen? 
Who  was  able  to  inspire  them  with  one  soul, — with  one 
high  and  lofty  and  burning  aspiration  ?  Who  was  able  to 
lift  up  a  people  whom  he  had  found  so  fallen,  though  jiot 
degraded,  that  they  could  scarcely  speak  the  words  of  free- 
doom — of  right — the  thoughts  in  their  minds  ?  It  was  the 
mighty  genius — it  was  the  grand,  the  maguificent  mind  of 
Ireland's  greatest  son — of  Daniel  O'Connell ! 

The  Government  got  afraid;  and  well  they  might  be. 
Oh,  for  the  shining  arms  of  the  "  Yolunteers ! "  If,  on  that 
day  of  Tara, — if,  on  that  day  of  Mullaghmast, — if,  on 
that  day,  when  the  soldiers  barred  the  road  to  Clonxarf, — 
if,  on  that  day,  Ireland  were  armed,  where,  on  the  face  of  the 
earth,  is  the  race  of  oppressors  that  this  army  of  men  might 
not  have  swept  from  their  path  in  the  might  of  their  con- 
centrated patriotism !  But  Irelan'd,  though  united,  was  un- 
armed ;  and  the  brave  and  heroio-  man,  who  said,  with  so 
much  truth,  that  his  highest  glory  would  be  to  draw  the 
sword  for  his  native  isle,  was  obliged  to  preach  conciliation, 
and  peace  and  submission  to  the  people. 

The  meeting  at  Clontarf  was  dispersed ;  and  I  may  say, 
with  truth,  that  the  dream  of  the  Repeal  of  the  Union  of 
Ireland  with  England  was  dissolved.  Some  days  after, 
found  O'Connell  in  prison,  where  for  months  he  languished ; 
his  health  and  his  heart  broken  for  the  sake  of  Ireland  ; 
until  at  length  the  iniquitous  decree,  the  blasphemous  judg- 
ment was  reversed, — even  by  the  English  House  of  Lords ; 
— and  O'Connell,.  in  September,  1844,  came  forth  from^ 
prison  a  free  man.  But  he  never  recovered  from  that  blow, 
never.  It  was  followed  by  disunion  in  the  national  councils. 
Brave  and  generous  hearts,  to  be  sure,  there  were,  full  of 
young  and  warm  blood.  They  were  for  drawing  the  sword, 
while  they  had  no  sword  to  draw.  Ireland,  unarmed,  arose 
in  rebellion ;  while  near  Clontarf,  and  in  and  around  Dub- 
lin, there  were  twenty  thousand  soldiers  ready  to  pour  out 


26  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH, 

the  people's  blood.     The  glorious  dream  of  emancipation — 
of  emancipation  for  the  people — fled  away,  for  the  time. 

Then  came  the  hand  of  God  upon  the  people.  "Oh,  well  I 
remember  the  fearful  scenes  that  aged  father  of  his  country 
saw  before  he  died!  Then  came  the  day  when  the  news 
spread  from  lip  to  lip  :  "  There  is  famine  in  the  land ;  and 
we  must  all  die."  So  said  eight  millions,  in  that  terrible 
year  of  '4G, — eight  millions,  in  that  awful  Autumn  that 
came  upon  us,  when  the  people  cried  for  bread  and  there 
was  no  one  to  break  it  to  them.  The  strong  men  lay  down 
and  died.  The  tender  maidens,  the  pure  and  aged  matrons 
of  Ireland,  lay  down  and  died.  They  were  found  dead  by 
the  roadside,  unburied ;  they  were  found  in  their  shallow 
graves — scarcely  buried.  They  were  found  crawling  to  the 
chapel  door  that  they  might  breathe  out  their  souls  in  one 
last  act  of  faith  and  love  to  Christ!  Thus  did  the  Angel 
of  Deatli  spread  his  wings  over  the  land.  The  Legislator 
and  the  Emancipator — the  Father  of  Ireland — was  com- 
pelled to  see  his  people  perish ;  and  he  had  not  the  means 
to   save   them.      O'Connell's   heart    broke   in  his   bosom. 

\  And,  a  broken-hearted  man,  in  January,  1847,  he  rose 
from  his  bed  aud  crawled  to  London.     With  tottering  step, 

\  the  aged  man — the  wreck  of  all  that  was  once  so  glorious 
— appeared  before  the  astonished  eyes  of  Parliament,  The 
voice  that  used  to  till  the  land  with  the  thunders  of  its  elo- 
quence, was  now  lowered  to  the  merest  whisper, — the  lan- 
guage of  a  broken  heart.  He  rose.  He  pictured  before 
those  men  the  agony  of  Ireland.  With  streaming  eyes  he 
implored  the  mercy  of  England  upon  the  dying  people  ;  and 
a  subsidy  to  save  their  lives.  That  subsidy  was  denied.  Ire- 
land was  told  that  she  might  die.  England  closed  her  hand. 
And  the  heart-broken  father  of  his  country  was  told  to  go 
and  seek  some  genial  clime ;  and  there  he  might  die ;  but 
there  was  no  mercy  for  his  Irish  people. 

O'Connell  set  out  for  Rome ;  the  Irish  people  started  for 
America.  O'Connell  is  in  Heaven,  to-night,  I  believe  in 
my  heart  and  soul ;  and  I  believe  also,  in  my  heart  and  soul, 
that,  if  anything  on  earth  could  brighten  his  joys  in  Heaven, 
his  joys  would  be  brightened  to  know  and  see  the  glory,  the 
increased  strength,  the  manhood  of  Ireland  as  it  exists  to- 
day in  America.  With  the  instinct  of  Catholicity  he 
turned  to  Rome,  journeying  by  slow  stages ;  and,  on  the  16th 


"TEE  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  O'CONN'ELL:'      27 

of  May,  1847,  be  breathed  out  bis  soul  to  God,  baving  re- 
ceived all  tbe  sacraments  of  tbe  Cburcb.  With  the  names 
of  Jesus  and  Mary  on  bis  lips,  he  died,  in  the  city  of  Genoa, 
in  the  north  of  Italy ;  and  his  last  words  were  :  "  When  I 
am  dead,  take  out  my  heart  and  send  it  to  Kome :  let  my 
body  be  brought  back  to  mingle  with  the  dust  of  Ireland !  " 
The  doctors  who  attended  him  could  not  make  out  what  dis- 
ease was  upon  him.  The  first  men  in  Ireland,  Fi-ance,  Italy 
— came  and  studied  his  case.  They  could  not  make  out 
what  sickness  or  what  infirmity  was  his.  They  had  never, 
before,  been  called  upon  to  attend  a  man  who  was  dymg  of 
a  broken  heart.  O'Connell's  •  heart  was  broken :  the  heart 
that  was  sent  to  Rome — the  heart  that  is  enshrined  in  Rome, 
to-day — was  brdken  for  love  of  Ireland  ! 

And,  now,  what  was  the  genius,  what  the  character  of 
this  man  ?  What  was  the  secret  of  his  strength  ?  I  an- 
swer again : — O'Connell  was  all  that  history  tells  us  to-day, 
and  all  that  history  shall  tell  the  nations  in  a  thousand  years 
to  come ;  O'Connell  was  all  that,  because  of  the  &,ith,  and 
Catholicity  that  was  in  him ; — because  he  was  a  Catholic  of 
the  Catholics ; — he  was  Irish  of  the  Irish ; — and  consequently 
the  instincts  of  Ireland,  and  the  heart  of  Catholic  Ireland 
sprang  to  meet  him,  and  identified  themselves  with  him ;  so 
that  he  made  Catholic  Ireland  as  if  it  had  but  one  heart, 
and  ^ne  thought,  and  one  mind.  Over  all  his  human  efforts, 
over  all  his  tremendous  exertions  in  the  cause  of  freedonv — 
in  the  sacred  cause  of  liberty — there  was  ever  shining  over 
all,  the  light  of  Divine  Faith ;  and  he  knew  that  in  doing 
battle  for  Ireland,  he  was  battling  for  Orod  and  for  God's 
Church.  What  made  him  refuse  the  "  Veto  ?  "  It  would 
not  have  affected  him;  it  would  only  have  affected  the 
Church;  it  would  only  affect  the  priesthood  and  the  episco- 
pacy of  Ireland.  What  made  him  refuse  that  bill  of  Can- 
ning's? It  was  because  his  Catholic  instincts — his  Catholic 
mind  and  heart  told  him  that  the  Stote  had  no  business  un- 
der Heaven  to  interfere  in  the  regulation  or  in  the  govern- 
ment of  the  Church.  He  gave  to  the  Irish  people  not  only 
the  voice  that  pleaded  for  their  freedom, — ^the  magnificent 
life  that  was  devoted  to  their  service, — but  he  gave  some- 
thing far  higher,  greater  than  this ;  he  gave  them  the  bright 
example  of  a  pious,  sincere.  Catholic  man.  He  showed  Ire- 
land, he  showed  the  world,  that  the  highest  genius  can  be 


28  JHELAND  AND  THE  IRTSE. 

exalted  still  more  wlien  it  is  consecrated  to  the  sacred  cause 
of  the  Church,  and  of  holy  religion.  He  taught  the  youth 
of  Ireland  the  lesson  they  had  learned  so  well  from  him  and 
from  their  fathers, — rthat  the  secret  of  Ireland's  strength  and 
of  Ireland's  ultimate  glory  and  freedom  and  nationality  lies 
in  Ireland's  adherence  to  her  glorious  old  faith.  He  taught 
the  youth  of  Ireland  that  that  man  alone  is  sure  to  conquer 
every  enemy  in  this  world  who  has  learned  to  conquer  his 
own  passions  and  himself  among  other  things.  He  has  con- 
tributed largely  to  make  a  priest  of  me ;  for  among  the 
tenderest  recollections  of  my  youth, — among  the  things  that 
made  a  deep  impression  on  me  as  a  boy, — was,  when  I  stood 
in  the  chapel  in  Galway,  to  see  the  great  O'Connell,  the  man 
that  shook  the  world,  that  frightened  every  man  that  crossed 
his  path, — to  see  that  great  man  coming  to  eight  o'clock 
Mass  in  the  morning ;  kneeling  among  us  and  receiving  his 
Holy  Communion ;  to  watch  him  absorbed  in  pi*ayer  before 
his  God  ;  to  read,  almost,  the  grand  thoughts  that  were  pass- 
ing through  that  pure  mind ;  to  see  him  renewing  again  and 
again,  before  Heaven,  the  vows  that  bound  him  to  his  relig- 
ion and  to  his  country.  This,  this  was  the  grand  principle 
of  his  life ;  this  was  the  secret  of  his  genius ;  this  was  the 
inspiration  that  produced  his  success,  And  in  this  devotion 
well  did  the  Irish  correspond  with  him.  Whatever  he  told 
them  to  avoid  they  avoided ;  whatever  he  told  them  to  do 
they  did  it.  Oh!  if  God  had  only  left  him,  and  left  us 
united  councils  I  And  if  God,  in  His  infinite  wisdom,  had 
only  averted  the  terrible  stroke  that  prostrated  Ireland,  and 
broke  O'Connell's  heart,  the  glory  that  we  still  looked  for- 
ward to  might  be  ours  to-day.  But,  although  he  is  dead 
and  gone,  his  genius,  his  soul,  his  heart  and  his  hopes,  still 
live  in  the  breast  of  every  true  son  of  Ireland.  You  and  I 
still  look  forward  to  our  brightest  human  hope,  after  the 
happiness  of  Heaven,  to  behold  Ireland  what  ho  so  often 
wished  and  prayed  she  might  be, "  great,  glorious  and  free." 
Great,  as  her  history  tells  us,  in  the  past,  she  has  been; 
glorious  O'Connell  made  her,  in  her  glorious  victory  of 
Emancipation;  free  I  oh,  there  is  a  God  of  justice  in  Hea- 
ven ; — there  is  a  God  that  treasures  up  the  fidelity  and  suf- 
ferings of  a  nation ; — there  is  a  God  that  accepts  the  people's 
sacrifice,  and,  sooner  or  later,  crowns  it.  To  that  God  do  I 
look,  with  the  same  confidence  with  which  I  look  for  my 


''THE  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  aCONNELL:'      29 

own  salvation ; — I  look  to  thee,  oh,  God !  this  night,  to  send 
down  the  crown,  the  reward  of  freedom,  to  my  glorious 
country  !  And  when  that  freedom  comes,  w^e  will  know  how 
to  use  it ;  we  will  know  how  to  respect  our  neighbor's  rights, 
and  not  trample  on  them :  we  will  respect  our  neighbor's 
property,  and  not  plunder  him.  We  will  never  raise  our 
hand  in  the  effort  to  deprive  any  people  on  the  earth  of  that 
sacred  boon  for  which  we  have  sighed  so  long, — the  sacred 
boon  of  national  freedom ;  because  we  are  Catholics,  and  the 
Catholic  Church  alone  teaches  man  how  to  preserve  and  de- 
fend so  high  a  gift,  and  how  to  use  his  freedom. 


"THE  niSTOEIC  KUmS  OF  lEELAND." 

{A  Lecture  delivered  hy  the  Very  Hev.  T.  N.  Burke,  0.  P.,  in  the 
Cooper  Institute,  New  York,  on  Friday,  April  4,  1872.) 


Ladies  and  Gentlemen  :  I  have  to  apologize  to  you,  in 
all  earnestness,  for  appearing  before  you  this  evening  in  my 
habit.  The  reason  why  I  put  off  my  black  cloth  coat  and 
put  on  this  dress — the  Dominican  habit — is,  first  of  all,  be- 
cause I  never  feel  at  home  in  a  black  coat.  When  God 
called  me, — the  only  son  of  an  Irish  father  and  an  Irish 
mother — from  the  home  of  the  old  people,  and  told  me  that 
it  was  His  will  that  I  should  beleng  to  Him  in  the  sanctu- 
ary, that  father  and  mother  gave  me  up  without  a  sigh,  be- 
cause they  were  Irish  parents,  and  had  the  Irish  faith  and 
love  for  the  Church  in  their  hearts.  And  from  the  day  I 
took  this  habit — from  that  day  to  this — I  never  felt  at  home 
in  any  other  dress ;  and  if  I  were  to  come  before  you  this 
evening  in  black  cloth,  like  a  layman,  and  not  like  an  Irish 
Dominican  friar,  I  might,  pisrhaps,  break  down  in  my  lec- 
ture. 

But  there  is  another  reason  why  I  appear  before  you  in 
this  white  habit :  because  I  am  come  to  speak  to  you  of  the 
ruins  that  cover  the  face  of  the  *'  old  land ;  "  I  am  come  to 
speak  to  you,  and  to  tell  you  of  the  glory  and  the  shame, 
the  joy  and  the  sorrow,  of  which  these  ruins  so  eloquently 
tell.  And  when  I  look  upon  them,  in  spirit  now,  my  mind 
sweeps  over  the  intervening  ocean,  and  I  stand  in  imagina- 
tion under  the  ivied  and  moss-covered  arches  of  Athenry, 
or  Sligo,  or  Clare-Galway,  or  Kilconnell ;  the  view  that 
rises  before  me  of  the  former  inmates  of  these  holy  places  is 
a  vision  of  white-robed  Dominicans,  and  of  brown  Francis- 
cans ;  and,  therefore,  in  coming  to  speak  to  you  in  this  garment, 
of  the  glorious  history  which  they  tell  us,  I  feel  more  my- 
self, more  in  consonance  with  the  subject  of  which  I  have  to 
speak  in  appearing  before  you,  as  the  child  and  the  repre- 
sentative— no  matter  how  unworthy — of  the  Irish  friars, — 


«*  THE  HISTORIC  HUINS  OJT  IKELAimr         31 

the  Irish  priests  and  patriots  who  sleep  in  Irish  graves  to- 
night. 

And  now,  my  friends,  the  grandest — the  most  precious 
inheritance  of  any  people,  is  that  people's  history.  All  that 
forms  the  national  character  of  a  people,  their  tone  of 
thought,  their  devotion,  their  love,  their  sympathies,  their 
antipathies,  their  language, — all  this  is  found  in  their  his- . 
tory,  as  the  effect  is  found  in  its  cause,  as  the  Autumn 
speaks  of  the  Spring.  And  the  philosopher  who  wishes  to 
analyze  a  people's  character  and  to  account  for  it, — to  ac- 
count for  the  national  desires,  hopes,  aspirations,  for  the 
strong  sympathies  or  antipathies  that  sway  a  people, — must 
go  back  to  the  deep  recesses  of  tKeir  history ;  and  there,  in 
ages  long  gone  by,  will  he  find  the  seeds  that  produced  the 
fruit  that  he  attempts  to  account  for.  And  he  will  find 
that  the  nation  of  to-day  is  but  the  child  and  the  ofisprisg 
of  the  nation  of  by-gone  ages ;  for  it  is  written  truly,  that 
"the  child  is  father  to  the  man,"  When,  therefore,  we 
come  to  consider  the  desires  of  nations,  we  find  that  every 
people  is  most  strongly  desirous  to  preserve  its  history,  even 
as  every  man  is  anxious  to  preserve  the  record  of  his  life ; 
for  history  is  the  record  of  a  people's  life.  Hence  it  is  that, 
in  the  libraries  of  the  more  ancient  nations,  we  find  the  ear- 
liest histories  of  the  primaeval  races  of  mankind,  written 
upon  the  durable  vellum,  the  imperishable  asbestos,  or 
sometimes  deeply  carved,  in  mystic  and  forgotten  characters, 
on  the  granite  stone,  or  pictured  rock ;  showing  the  desire  of 
the  people  to  preserve  the  history  which  is  to  preserve  the 
memory  of  them ; — just  as  the  old  man,  dying,  said,  "  Lord, 
keep  my  memory  green !  " 

But,  besides  these  more  direct  and  documentary  evidences, 
the  history  of  every  nation  is  enshrined  in  the  national  tra- 
ditions, in  the  national  music  and  song ;  much  more  it  is 
written  in  the  public  buildings  that  cover  the  face  of  the 
land.  These,  silent  and  in  ruins,  tell  most  eloquently  their 
tale.  To-day  "the  walls  may  be  crumbled,  the  stone  de- 
cayed ; "  the  clustering  ivy  may,  perhaps,  uphold  the  totter- 
ing ruin  to  which  it  clung  in  the  days  of  its  strength ;  but, 

"  The  sorrows,  the  joys  of  which  once  they  were  part, 
Still  round  tiiem,  like  visions  of  yesterday,  throng." 

They  are  the  voices  of  the  past  ;*'they  are  the  voices  of  ages 


32 


IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRISH. 


long  gone  by.  They  rear  their  venerable  and  beautiful 
gray  heads  high  over  the  land  they  adorn  ;  and  they  tell  us 
the  tale  of  the  glory  or  of  the  shame,  of  the  strength  or  of 
the  weakness,  of  the  prosperity  or  of  the  adversity  of  the 
nation  to  which  they  belong.     This  is  the  volume  which  we 


are  about  to 


open 


this  is  the  voice  which  we  are  about  to 


call  forth  from  the  gray  and  ivied  ruins  that  cover  the  green 
bosom  of  Ireland  :  we  are  about  to  go  back  up  the  highways 
of  history,  and,  as  it  were,  to  breast  and  to  stem  the  stream 
of  time,  to-day,  taking  our  start  from  the  present  hour  in 
Ireland. 

What  have  we  here  ?  It  is  a  stately  church, — rivalling, — 
perhaps  surpassing, — in  its  glory,  the  grandeur  of  by-gone 
times.  We  behold  the  solid  buttresses,  the  massive  wall, 
the  high  tower,  the  graceful  spire  piercing  the  clouds,  and 
upholding  high  towards  heaven,  the  symbol  of  man's  re- 
demption, the  glorious  sign  of  the  Cross.  We  see  in  the 
stone  windows  the  massive  tracery,  so  solid,  so  strong,  and 
so  delicate.  What  does  this  tell  us  ?  Here  is  this  church, 
so  grand,  jret  so  fresh  and  new  and  clean  from  the  mason's 
hand.  WhatT'does  it  tell  us  ?  It  tells  us  of  a  race  that  has 
never  decayed ;  it  teSb^^is  of  a  people  that  have  never  lost 
their  faith  nor  their  love ;  it  talk  us  of  a  nation  as  strong 
in  its  energy  for  every  highest  and  holiest  purpose,  to-day, 
as  it  was  in  the  ages  that  are  past  and  gone  forever. 

We  retrace  just  half  a  century  on  the  highway  of  time  ; 
and  we  come  upon  that  which  has  been  familiar,  perhaps,  to 
many  amongst  you,  as  well  as  to  me, — the  plain,  unpretend- 
ing little  chapel,  in  some  by-lane  of  the  town  or  city, — or  the 
plain  and  humble  little  chapel  in  some  by-way  in  the  country, 
with  its  thatched  roof,  its  low  ceiling,  its  earthen  floor,  its 
wooden  altar.  What  does  this  tell  us  ?  It  tells  us  of  a  people 
struggling  against  adversity;  it  tells  us  of  a  people  making 
their  first  effort,  after  three  hundred  years  of  blood,  to  build 
up  a  house,  however  humble,  for  their  God ;  it  tells  us  of  a 
^people  who  had  not  yet  shaken  off  the  traditions  of  their  sla- 
very, upon  whose  hands  the  chains  still  hang,  and  the  wounds 
inflicted  by  those  chains  are  still  rankling ;  it  tells  us  of  a 
people  who  scarcely  3'et  know  how  to  engage  in  the  glorious 
work  of  church  edification,  because  they  have  scarcely  yet 
realized  the  privilege  that  they  were  to  be  allowed  to  live  in 
the  land  that  bore  them.     Let  us  reverently  bow  down  our 


"  THE  EISTORIG  RUIN8  OF  IBELAND:'         33 

heads  and  salute  these  ancient  plages — these  ancient,  humble 
little  chapels,  in  town  or  country,  where  we — wo  men  of 
middle  age— made  our  first  confession,  and  received  our  first 
communion :  let  us  salute  these  places,  hallowed  in  our  mem- 
ories by  the  first,  and  therefore  the  strongest,  the  purest, 
holiest  recollections  and  associations  of  our  lives  ;  and,  pil- 
grims of  history,  let  us  turn  into  the  di'eary,  solitary  road 
that  lies  before  us.  It  is  a  road  of  three  hundred  years  of 
desolation  and  bloodshed:  it  is  a  road  that  leads  through 
martyrs'  and  patriots'  graves ;  it  is  a  road  that  is  wet  with 
the  tears  and  with  the  blood  of  a  persecuted  and  down-tK)dden 
people ;  k;  is  a  road  that  is  pointed  out  to  us  by  the  sign  of 
the  Cross,  the  emblem  of  the  nation's  faith,  and  by  the  site 
of  the  martyr's  grave,  the  emblem  of  the  nation's  undying 
fidelity  to  God. 

And,  now,  what  venerable  ruin  is  this  which  rises  before 
our  eyes,  moss-crowned,  imbedded  in  clustering  ivy  ?  It  is  a 
church,  for  we  see  the  muUions  of  the  great  east  window  of 
the  sanctuary,  through  which  once  flowed,  through  angels  and 
saints  depicted  thereon,  the  mellow  sunshine  that  warmed 
up  the  arch  above,  and  made  mosaics  upon  floor  and 
altar.  It  is  a  church  of  the  mediaeval  choral  order, — for 
I  see  the  lancet  windows,  the  choir  where  the  religious  were 
accustomed  to  chaunt ; — yet  popular,  and  much  frequented  by 
the  people,  for  I  see  outside  the  choir  an  aijiple  space :  the 
side-aisles  are  unincumbered,  and  the  side-chapels  with  altars 
— the  mind  of  the  architect  clearly  intending  an  ample  space 
for  the.  people ;  yet  it  is  not  too  large  a  church ;  for  it  is 
generally  one  that  the  preacher's  voice  can  easily  fill.  Out- 
side of  it  runs  the  square  of  the  ruined  cloister,  humble 
enough,  yet  most  beautiful  in  its  architecture.  But  now, 
church  and  cloister  alike  are  filled  with  graves, — the  homes  of 
the  silent  dead. 

Do  I  recall  to  the  loving  memory  of  9JIJ  one  among  you 
scenes  that  have  been  familiar  t^o.  your  eyes  in  the  dear  and 
the  green  old  land?  Are  there  not  those  among  you  who 
have  looked,  with  eyes  softened  by  love,  and  by  the  sadness 
of  the  recollections  recalled  to  the  mind,  under  the  chancel 
and  the  choir,  under  the  ample  space  of  nave  and  aisle  of  the 
old  abbey  of  Athenry,  or  in  the  old  abbey  of  Ealconnell,  or 
such  as  these  ?  What  tale  do  these  tell  ?  They  tell  of  a 
nation  that,  although  engaged  in  a  hand-to-hand  and  desper- 


34 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IBISH. 


ate  struggle  for  its  national  life,  yet  in  the  midst  of  its  wars 
was  never  unmindful  of  its  God.  They  tell  of  Ireland  when 
the  clutch  of  the  Saxon  was  upon  her ;  when  the  sword  was 
unsheathed  that  was  never  to  know  its  scabbard  from  that 
day  until  this,  and  that  never  will,  until  the  diadem  of  per- 
fect freedom  rests  upon  the  virgin  brow  of  Ireland.  They 
tell  of  the  glorious  days  when  Ireland's  Church  and  Ireland's 
Nationality  joined  hands;  and  when  the  priest  arid  the 
people  rose  up  to  enter  upon  a  glorious  combat  for  freedom. 
These  were  the  homes  of  the  Franciscan  and  the  Dominican 
friars — the  men  who,  during  three  hundred  years  of  their 
residence  in  Ireland,  recalled  in  these  cloisters  the  ancient 
glories  of  Lismore,  and  of  Glendalough,  and  of  Armagh ;  the 
men  who,  from  the  time  they  first  raised  these  cloisters, 
never  left  the  land, — never  abandoned  the  old  soil,  but 
lingered  around  their  ancient  homes  of  happiness,  of  sanc- 
tity, and  of  peace,  and  tried  to  keep  near  the  old  walls ;  just 
as  Magdalen  lingered  round  the  empty  tomb,  on  Easter 
morning,  at  Jerusalem.  They  tell  of  the  sanctuaries,  where 
the  hunted  head  of  the  Irish  patriot  found  refuge  and  a 
place  of  security.  They  tell  the  Irish  historian  of  the  Na- 
tional Councils,  formed  for  State  purposes,  within  them. 
These  venerable  walls,  if  they  could  speak,  would  tell  us  how 
the  wavering  were  encouraged  and  strengthened,  and  the 
brave  and  gallant  fired  with  the  highest  and  noblest  purpose 
for  God  and  Erin;  how  the  traitor  was  detected  and  the 
false-hearted  denounced ;  and  how  the  Nation's  life-blood 
was  kept  warm,  and  her  wounds  were  staunched,  by  the 
wise  counsels  of  ther  old  Franciscan  and  Dominican  friars. 
All  this  and  more  would  these  walls  tell  if  they  could 
speak  ;  for  they  have  witnessed  all  this.  They  witnessed  it 
until  the  day  came — the  day  of  war,  the  sword,  and  blood — 
that  drove  forth  their  saintly  inmates  from  their  loving 
shelter,  and  devqjied  themselves  to  desolation  and  decay. 
Let  us  bow  down,  fellow-Irishmen,  with  reverence  and  with 
love,  as  we  pass  under  the  shadow  of  these  ancient  walls. 

And  now  stepping  a  few  years — scarcely  fifty  years — fur- 
ther on  the  road  of  our  history, — passing  as  we  go  along 
under  the  frowning,  dark,  feudal  castles  of  the  Fitzgeralds, 
of  the  De  Laceys,  the  De  Courceys,  the  Fitzadelms,  and,  I 
regret  to  say,  the  De  Burgs, — the  castles  that  tell  us  always 
of  the  terror  of  the  invaders  of  the  land,  hiding  themselves 


"  THE  mSTOmC  BUINS  OF  IRELAND:'  35 

in  their  strongholds,  because  they  could  not  trust  to  the  love 
of  the  people,  who  hated  them;  and  because  they  were 
afraid  to  meet  the  people  in  the  open  field ;  passing  under 
the  frowning  shadows  of  these  castles,  suddenly  we  stand 
amazed — crushed  as  it  were  to  the  earth,  by  the  glories  that 
rise  before  us,  in  the  ruins  of  Mellifont,  in  the  ruins  of 
Dunbrodie,  in  the  awful  ruins  of  Holy  Cross,  and  of  Cashel, 
that  we  see  yet  uplifting,  in  solemn  grandeur,  their  stately 
heads  in  ruined  beauty  over  the  land  which  they  once 
adorned.  There  do  we  see  the  vestiges  of  the  most  magnifi- 
cent architecture,  some  of  the  grandest  buildings  that  ever 
yet  were  raised  upon  tjjis  earth  for  God  or  man.  There  do 
we  see  the  lofty  side  walls  pierced  with  huge  windows, 
filled  with  the  most  delicate  tracery ;  there,  when  we  enter 
in,  we  throw  our  eyes  aloft  with  wonder,  and  see  the 
groined,  massive  arches  of  the  ceiling  upholding  the  mighty 
tower ;  there  do  we  see  the  grandeur  of  the  ancient  Cister- 
cians, and  the  Canons  Regular  of  St.  Augustine,  and  the 
Benedictines.  What  tale  do  tlie'i/  tell  us  ?  Oh,  they  tell  us 
a  glorious  tale  of  our  history  and  our  people.  These  were 
the  edifices  that  were  built  and  founded  in  Ireland  during 
the  brief  respite  that  the  nation  had,  from  the  day  that  she 
drove  the  last  Dane  out,  until  the  day  that  the  first  accursed 
Norman  came.  A  short  time,  a  brief  period  :  too  brief, 
alas  !  too  brief.  Yet  in  it,  Ireland,  exhausted  after  her 
three  hundred  .years  of  Danish  invasion,  turned  her  first 
thoughts  and  her  first  energies  to  build  up  the  ancient 
places  that  were  ruined, — to  restore  and  to  clothe  the  sanctu- 
aries of  her  faith,  with  a  splendor  suph  as  the  nation  never 
had  seen  before. 

We  will  pass  on.  And,  now,  a  mountain  road  lies  before 
us.  The  land  is  filled  again,  for  three  centuries,  with  deso- 
lation and  with  bloodshed  and  with  sorrow.  The  hill-sides, 
on  either  hand  of  our  path,  are  strewn  with  the  bodies  of 
the  slain ;  the  valleys  are  filled  with  desolation  and  ruin ; 
the  air  resounds  to  the  ferocious  battle-cry  of  the  Dane,  and 
to  the  brave  battle-cry  of  the  Celt,  intermingled  with  the 
v/ailing  of  the  widowed  mother  and  the  ravished  maid ;  the 
air  is  filled  with  the  crash  and  the  shock  of  battle :  for  in 
terrible  onset,  the  lithe,  active  mail-clad,  fair-haired,  blue- 
eyed  warriors  of  the  North  meet  the  dark,  stalwart  Celt ; 
and  they  close  in  mortal  combat. 


36 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH, 


Toiling  along,  pilgrims  of  history  as  we  are,  we  come  to 
the  summit  of  Tara's  Hill,  and  there  we  look  in  vain  for  a 
vestige  of  Ireland's  ruins.  But  now,  after  these  three  hun- 
dred years  of  our  backward  journey  over  the  highway  of 
history,  we  breathe  the  upper  air.  The  sunshine  of  the 
eighth  century,  and  of  Ireland's  three  centuries  of  Christi- 
anity, is  upon  our  path.  We  breathe  the  purer  air ;  we  are 
among  the  mountains  of  God ;  and  a  sight  the  most  glorious 
that  nation  ever  presented  opens  itself  before  our  eyes, — 
the  sight  of  Ireland's  first  three  centuries  of  the  glorious 
Faith  of  St.  Patrick.  Peace  is  upon  the  land.  Schools 
rise  upon  every  hill  and  in  every  valley.  Every  city  is  an 
immense  school.  The  air  again  is  filled  with  the  sound  of 
many  voices ;  for  students  from  every  clime  under  the  sun 
— the  German,  the  Pict,  the  Cimbri,  the  Frank,  the  Italian, 
the  Saxon,  are  all  mingled  together,  conversing  together  in 
the  universal  language  of  the  Church,  Pome's  old  Latin. 
They  have  come,  and  they  have  covered  the  land;  they 
have  come  in  thousands  and  in  tens  of  thousands,  to  hear 
from  the  lips  of  the  world-renowned  Irish  saints  all  the  lore 
of  ancient  Greece  and  Pome,  and  to  study  in  the  lives  of 
these  saints  the  highest  degree  and  the  noblest  interpretation 
of  Christian  morality  and  Christian  perfection.  Wise 
rulers  governed  the  land ;  her  heroes  were  moved  to  mighty 
acts ;  and  these  men,  who  came  from  every  clime  to  the  uni- 
versity of  the  world — to  the  great  masters  of  the  nations — 
go  back  to  their  respective  countries  and  tell  the  glorious 
tale  of  Ireland's  strength  and  Ireland's  sanctity, — of  the 
purity  of  the  Irish  maidens, — of  the  learning  and  saintliness 
of  the  Irish  priesthood, — of  the  wisdom  of  her  kings  and 
rulers,— of  the  sanctity  of  her  people ; — ^until  at  length, 
from  out  the  recesses  of  history,  there  comes,  floating  upon 
the  breezes  of  time,  the  voice  of  an  admiring  world,  that 
proclaims  my  native  land,  in  that  happy  epoch,  and  gives 
to  her  the  name  of  the  island  of  heroes,  of  saints,  and  of 
sages. 

Look  up.  In  imaginaition  we  stand  now  upon  the  highest 
level  of  Ireland's  first  Christianity.  Above  us,  we  behold 
the  venerable  hill-top  of  Tara ;  and,  beyond  that,  again,  far 
away,  and  high  up  on  the  mountain,  inaccessible  by  any 
known  road  of  history,  amid  the  gloom, — the  mysterious 
cloud  that  hangs  around  the  cradle  of  every  ancient  race. 


"  THE  HISTORIC  RUINS  OF  IRELAND."         37 

looming  forth  from   pre-historic  obscurity, — we  behold  the 
mighty  Round  Towers  of  Ireland.     There  they  stand — 

"  The  Pillar  Towers  of  Ireland  1  how  wondronsly  they  stand 

By  the  rushing  streams,  m  the  silent  glens  and  the  valleys  of  the 

land — 
In  mystic  file,  throughout  the  isle,  they  rear  their  heads  sublime, — '• 
Those  gray  old  pillar  temples, — those  conquerors  of  time."  ^ 

Now,  having  gone  up  to  the  cradle  and  fountain-head  of 
our  history  as  told  by  its  monuments  and  its  ruins,  we  shall 
pause  a  little  before  we  begin  again  our  downward  course. 
We  shall  pause  for  a  few  moments  under  the  shadows  of 
Ireland's  Round  Towers.  There  they  stand,  most  perfect  in 
their  architecture;  stone  fitted  into  stone  with  the  most 
artistic  nicety  and  regularity ;  every  stone  bound  to  its  bed 
by  a  cement  as  hard  as  the  stone  itself.  A  beautiful  calcu- 
lation of  the  weight  which  was  to  be  put  upon  it,  and  the 
foundation  which  was  to  sustain  it,  has  arrived  at  this, — 
that,  though  thousands  of  years  have  passed  over  their  hoary 
heads,  there  they  standj  as  firm  to-day  as  on  the  day  when 
they  were  first  erected.  There  they  stand,  in  j)erfect  form, 
in  perfect  perpendicular.  And  the  student  of  art  in  the 
nineteenth  century  can  find  matter  for  admiration  and  for 
wonder  in  the  evidence  of  Ireland's  civilization,  speaking 
loudly  and  eloquently  by  the  voice  of  her  most  ancient 
Round  Towers.  Who  built  them  ?  You  have  seen  them ; 
they  are  all  over  the  island.  The  traveller  sails  up  the 
placid  bosom  of  the  lovely  Blackwater ;  and  while  he  admires 
its  varied  beauties,  and  his  very  heart  within  him  is  ravished 
by  its  loveliness,  he  beholds,  high  above  its  gre^n  banks, 
amid  the  ruins  of  ancient  Lismor?,  a  venerable  Round 
Tower  lifting  its  gray  head  into  the  air.  As  he  goes  on, 
passing,  as  in  a  dream  of  delight,  now  by  the  valleys  and 
the  hills  of  lovely  Wicklow,  he  admires  the  weeping  alders 
that  hang  over  the  stream  in  sweet  Avoca ; — he  admires  the 
bold  heights  throwing  their  outlines  so  sharp  and  clear 
against  the  sky,  and  clothed  to  their  very  summits  with  the 
sweet-smelling  purple  heather ; — he  admires  all.  this,  until, 
at  length,  in  a  deep  valley  in  the  very  heart  of  the  hills,  he 
beholds,  reflecting  itself  in  the  deep  waters  of  still  Glenda- 
lough,  the  venerable  "  Round  Tower  of  other  days."  Or  he 
has  taken  his  departure  from  the   Island   of  Saints;  and 


38 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


■when  liis  ship's  prow  is  turned  towards  the  setting  sun,  he  be- 
holds upon  the  head-lands  of  the  iron-bound  coast  of  Mayo  or 
western  Galway  the  Kound  Tower  of  Ireland,  the  last  thing 
the  eye  of  the  lover  or  traveller  beholds.  "Who  built  these 
towers,  or  for  what  purpose  were  they  built  ?  There  is  no 
record  of  reply,  although  the  question  has  been  repeated,  age 
after  age,  for  thousands  of  years.  Who  can  teU  ?  They  go  so 
far  back  into  the  mists  of  history,  as  to  have  the  lead  of  all 
the  known  events  in  the  history  of  our  native  land.  Some 
say  that  they  are  of  Christian  origin ;  others,  again,  with 
equal  probability,  and,  perhaps,  greater,  assert  that  these 
venerable  monuments  are  far  more  ancient  than  Ireland's 
Catholicity ;  that  they  wei-e  the  temples  of  a  by-gone  reli- 
gion, and,  perhaps,  of  a  long-forgotten  race.  They  may  have 
been  the  temples  of  the  ancient  Fire  Worshippers  of  Ire- 
land ;  and  the  theory  has  been  mooted  that,  in  the  time 
when  our  remotest  forefcithers  worshipped  the  rising  sun, 
the  priest  of  the  Sun  was  accustomed  to  climb  to  the  summit 
of  the  Hound  Tower,  to  turn  his  face  to  the  east,  and  watch 
with  anxiety  the  rising  of  the  morning  star,  as  it  came  up, 
trembling  in  its  silver  beauty,  above  the  eastern  hills. 
Then,  when  the  first  i-ays  of  the  sun  illumined  the  valleys,  he 
hailed  its  rising,  and  proclaimed  to  the  people  around  him 
their  duty  of  worship  to  the  coming  God.  This  is  a  theory 
that  would  connect  Ireland's  Round  Towers  with  the  most 
ancient  form  of  religion — the  false  religion,  which  truth 
dispelled  when,  coming  with  the  Sun  of  Heaven,  and  show- 
ing before  Irish  intellect  the  glories  of  the  risen  Saviour, — 
the  brightness  of  the  Heavenly  Sun  dimmed  forever  the  glory 
of  the  earthly,  and  dispelled  the  darkness  of  the  human  soul, 
which  had  filled  the  la^d  before  with  its  gloom.  This  is  not 
the  time  nor  the  place  to  enter  into  an  archaeological  argu- 
ment as  to  whether  the  Bound  Towers  are  of  Pagan  or 
Christian  origin,  or  as  to  whether  they  are  the  offspring  of 
the  famous  5ob^T)  S<\oti  or  of  any  other  architect,  or  of  the 
men  of  the  fifth  or  of  the  sixth  centuries :  or  whether  they  go 
back  into  the  times  of  which  no  vestige  remains  upon  the 
pages  of  history  or  in  the  traditions  of  men ; — this,  I  say,  is 
not  the  time  to  do  it.  I  attempted  this  once ;  and  while  I 
was  pui-suing  my  argument,  as  I  imagined,  very  learnedly 
and  veiy  profoundly,  I  ISaw  a  man  sitting  opposite  to  me 
open  his  mouth ;  and  he  gave  a  yawn ;  and  I  said  in  my 


"7!H^  HISTORIC  RUINS  OF  IRELANBy  39 

own  mind,  to  myself:  "  Mj  dear  friend",  if  you  do  not  close 
vour  dissertation,  that  man  will  never  shut  his  mouth ; " 
for  I  thought  the  top  of  his  head  would  come  off. 

But  no  matter  what  may  be  the  truth  of,  this  theovy  or 
that,  concerning  the  Round  TowerS,  one  thing  is  certain,-r- 
and  this  is  the  point  to  which  I  wish  to  speak, — that  as  they 
stand  to-day,  in  the  strength  of  their  material,  in  the  beauty 
of  their  form,  in  the  perfection  of  their  architecture,  in  the 
scientific  principles  upon  which  they  were  built,  and  which 
they  reveal,  they  are  the  most  ancient  among  the  records  of 
the  most  ancient  nations,  and  distinctly  tell  the  glorious 
tale  of  the  early  civilization  of  the  Irish  people.  For,  my 
friends,  remember  that  among  the  evidences  of  progress  of 
civilization,  among  the  nations,  there  is  no  more  powerful 
argument  or  evidence  than  that  which  is  given  by  their  pub- 
lic buildings.  When  you  reflect  that  many  centuries  after- 
wards,— ages  after  ages, — even  after  Ireland  had  become 
Catholic, — there  was  no  such  thing  in  England  as  a  stone 
building  of  any  kind,  much  less  a  stone  church, — when  you 
reflect  that  outside  the  pale  of  the  ancient  civilization  of 
Gi-eece  and  Home  there  was  no  such  thing  known  among  the 
Northern  and  Western  nations  of  Europe  as  a  stone  edifice 
of  any  kind, — then  I  say,  from  this  I  conclude  that  these 
venerable  PiUar  Temples  of  Ireland  are  the  strongest  argu- 
ment for  the  ancient  civilization  of  our  race.  But  this  also 
explains  the  faxit  that  St.  Patrick,  when  he  preached  in  Ire- 
land, was  not  persecuted ;  that  he  was  not  contradicted ; 
that  it  was  not  asked  of  him,  as  of  every  other  man  that 
ever  preached  the  Gospel  for  the  first  time  to  any  people,  to 
shed  his  blood  in  proof  of  his  beliet  No ;  he  came  not  to  a 
barbarous  people, — not  to  an  uncivilised  race ;  but  he  came 
to  a  wonderfully  <a.vilized  nation, — a  nation  which  though 
under  the  cloud  o/a  false  religion,  had  yet  attained  to  estab- 
lished laws  and  a  recognized  and  settled  form  of  government, 
a  high  philosophical  knowledge,  a  splendid^  national  melody 
and  poetry ;  and  her  bards,  and  the  men  who  met  St.  Pat- 
rick upon  the  TTill  of  Tara,  when  he  mounted  it  on  that 
Easter  morning,  were  able  to  meet  him  with  solid  argu- 
ments; were  able  to  meet  him  with  the  clash  which 
takes  place  when  mind  meets  mind :  and  when  he  had  con- 
vinced them,  they  showed  the  greatest  proof  of  their  civili- 
zation by  rising  up  on  the  instant  to  declare  that  Patrick^s 


40 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IBISH. 


preaching  was  the  truth,  and  that  Patrick  was  a  messenger 
of  the  true  God.  We  know  for  certain  that,  whatever  was 
the  origin  of  those  Round  Towers,  the  Church — the  Catholic 
Church  in  Ireland — made  use  of  them  for  religious  purposes ; 
that  she  built  her  cathedrals  and  her  abbey  churches 
alongside  of  them ;  and  we  often  find  the  loving  group  of 
the  "  Seven  Churches  "  lying  closely  beside,  if  not  under 
the  shadow  of  the  Round  Towers.  We  also  know  that  the 
monks  of  old  set  the  Cross  of  Christ  on  these  ancient  Hound 
Towers, — that  is,  on  the  upper  part  of  them  ;  and  we  know, 
from  the  evidence  of  a  later  day,  that,  when  the  land  was 
deluged  in  blood,  and  when  the  faithful  people  were  perse- 
cuted, hunted  down, — then  it  was  usual,  as  in  the  olden 
time,  to  light  a  fire  in  the  upper  portion  of  those  Round 
Towers,  in  order  that  the  poor  and  persecuted  might  know 
where  to  find  the  sanctuary  of  God's  altar.  Thus  it  was 
that,  no  matter  for  what  purpose  they  were  founded,  the 
Church  of  God  made  use  of  them  for  purposes  of  charity,  of 
religion,  and  of  mercy. 

Coming  down  from  these  steep  heights  of  history, — com- 
ing down  like  Moses  fpom  the  mountain, — from  out  the 
mysteries  that  envelop  the  cradle  of  our  race  ;  but,  like  the 
prophet  of  old,  with  the  evidence  of  our  nation's  ancient 
civilization  and  renown  beaming  upon  us, — we  now  come  to 
the  Hill  of  Tara.  Alas,  the  place  where  Ireland's  monarch 
sat  enthroned, — the  place  where  Ireland's  sages  and  seers 
met, — where  Ireland's  poets  and  bards  filled  the  air  with 
the  rich  harmony  of  our  ancient  Celtic  melody, — is  now 
desolate ;  not  a  stone  upon  a  stone  to  attest  its  ancient 
glory.  "  J^erierunt  etiam  mines  I " — the  very  ruins  of  it 
have  perished.  The  mounds  are  there,  the  old  moat  is 
there,  showing  the  circumvallation  of  the  ancient  towers  of 
Tara ; — the  old  moat  is  there,  still  traced  by  the  unbroken 
mound  whereby  the  "  Banquet  Hall,"  three  hundred  and 
sixty  feet  long,  by  forty  feet  in  width,  was  formed,  and  in 
which  the  kings  of  Ireland  entertained  their  chieftains,  their 
royal  dames,  and  their  guests  in  high  festival  and  glorious 
revelry.  Beyond  this  no  vestige  remains.  But  there  with- 
in the  moat, — in  the  very  midst  of  the  ruins, — there,  perhaps, 
on  the  very  spot  where  Ireland's  ancient  throne  was  raised, 
— there  is  a  long,  grass-grown  mound ;  the  earth  is  raised ; — 
it  is  covered  with  a  verdant  sod ;  the  shamrock  blooms  upon 


''THE  HISTORIG  RUINS  OF  IRELAND:'         41 

it ;  and,  the  old  peasants  will  tell  you,  this  is  the  "  Croppy's 
Grave."     In  the  year  1798,  the  *'year  of  the  troubles,"  as 
we  may  well  call  it,  some  ninety  Wexford  men,  or  thereabouts, 
after  the  news  came  that  "  the  cause  was  lost,"  fought  their 
way,  every  inch,  from  Wexford,  until  they  came  to  the  Hill 
of  Tara,  and  made  their  last  stand  on  the  banks  of  the  river 
Boyne.     There,  pursued  by  a  great  number  of  the  King's 
dragoons,  they  fought  their  way  through  these  two  miles  of 
intervening  country,  their  faces  to  the  foe.     These  ninety 
heroes,  surrounded,  fired  upon,  still  fought,  and  would  not 
yield,  until  slowly,  like  the  Spartan  band  at  Thermopylae, 
they  gained  the  Hill  of  Tara,  and  stood  there  like  lions  at  bay. 
Surrounded  on  all  sides  by  the  soldiers,  the  oflEicer  in  com- 
mand offered  them  their  lives  if  they  would  only  lay  down 
their  arms.     One  of  these  "  Shelmaliers  "  had  that  morning 
sient  the  colonel  of  the  dragoons  to  take  a  cold  bath  in  the 
Boyne.     In  an  evil  hour  the  Wexford  men,  trusting  to  the 
plighted  faith  of  this  British  officer,  laid  down  their  arms ; 
and,  as  soon  as  their  guns  were  out  of  their  hands,  every 
man  of  them  was  fired  upon  ;  and  to  the  last  one,  they  per- 
ished upon  the  HUl  of  Tara.    And  there  they  were  enshrined, 
among  the   ancient  glories   of    Ireland,   and   laid   in   the 
"  Croppy's  Grave."     And   men   tell   how,  in    1843,  when 
O'Connell  was  holding  his  monster  meetings  throughout  the 
land, — in  the  early  morning  he  stood  upon  the  Hill  of  Tara, 
with  a  hundred   thousand   brave,  strong  Irishmen  around 
him.     There  was  a  tent   pitched  upon  the  hill-top ;  there 
was  an  altar  erected,  and  an  aged  priest  went  to  offer  up  the 
Mass  for  the  people.     But~the  old  women, — the  women  with 
gray  heads,  who  were  blooming  maidens  in  '98, — came  from 
every  side ;  and  they  knelt  round  the  "  Croppy's  Grave"; " 
and  just  as  the  priest  began  the  Mass,  and  the  one  hundred 
thousand  on  the  hill-side  and  in  the  vales  below  were  unit- 
ing in  adoration,  a  loud  cry  of  wailing  pierced  the  air.     It 
was  the  Irish  mothers  and  the  Irish  maidens  pouring  out 
their  souls  in  sorrow,  and  wetting  with  their  tears  the  sham- 
rocks that  grew  out  of  the  *'  Croppy's  Grave." 

*'  Dark  falls  the  tear  of  him  that  moumeth 
Lost  hope  or  joy  that  never  retumeth : 
But  brightly  flows  the  tear 
"Wept  o'er  a  hero's  bier." 

Tara  and  its  glories  are  things  of  the  past ;  Tara  and  its 


42 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IBISH. 


monarclis  are  gone;  but  the  spirit  that  crowned  them  at 
Tara  has  not  died  with  them ; — the  spirit  that  summoned 
bard  and  chief  to  surround  their  throne  has  not  expired  with 
them.  That  spirit  was  the  spirit  of  Ireland's  Nationality ; 
and  that  spirit  lives  to-day,  as  strong,  as  fervid,  and  as  glori- 
ous as  ever  it  burned  during  the  ages  of  persecution ;  as  it 
ever  lived  in  the  hearts  of  the  Irish  race. 

And  now,  my  friends,  treading,  as  it  were,  adown  the  hill- 
side, after  having  heard  Patrick's  voice,  after  having  be- 
held, on  the  threshold  of  Tara,  Patrick's  glorious  episcopal 
figure,  as,  with  the  simplicity  that  distinguished  his  grand, 
heroic  character,  he  plucked  from  the  soil  the  shamrock  and 
upheld  it,  and  appealed  to  the  imagination  of  Ireland, — ap- 
pealed to  that  imagination  that  never  yet  failed  to  recog- 
nize a  thing  of  truth  or  a  thing  of  beauty, — we  now  descend 
the  hill,  and  wander  through  the  land  where  we  first  beheld 
the  group  of  the  "  Seven  Churches."  Everywhere  through- 
out the  land  do  we  see  the  clustering  ruins  of  these  small 
churches.  Rarely  exceeding  fifty  feet  in  length,  they  do  not 
always  attain  even  to  such  proportions.  There  they  are, 
generally  sjDeaking,  under  the  shadow  of  some  old  Round 
Tower, — some  ancient  Celtic  name,  indicative  of  past  glory, 
still  lingering  around  and  sanctifying  them.  What  were 
these  "  seven  churches  ?  " — what  is  the  meaning  of  them  ? 
— why  were  they  so  numerous  ?  Why,  there  were  churches 
enough,  if  we  believe  the  ruins  of  Ireland,  in  Ireland  during 
the  first  two  centuries  of  its  Christianity,  to  house  the  whole 
nation.  Everywhere  there  were  churches, — churches  in 
groups  of  seven, — as  if  one  were  not  enough,  or  two.  Now- 
adays, we  are  struck  with  the  multitude  of  churches  in  Lon- 
do'h,  in  Dublin,  in  New- York ;  but  we  must  remember  that 
we  are  a  divided  community,  and  that  every  sect,  no  matter 
how  small  it  is,  builds  its  own  church.  But  in  Ireland  we 
were  all  of  one  faith ;  and  all  of  these  churches  were  mul- 
tiplied. What  is  the  meaning  of  it?  These  churches 
were  built  in  the  early  days  of  Ireland's  monasticism, — in 
the  days  when  the  world  acknowledged  the  miracle  of  Ire- 
land's holiness.  Never,  since  God  .ci^ated  the  earth — never, 
since  Christ  proclaimed  the  truth  among  men — never  was 
seen  so  extraordinary  and  so  miraculous  a  thing  as  that  a 
people  should  become,  almost  entirely,  a  nation  of  monks 
and  nuns,  as  soon  as  they  became  Catholic  and  Christian. 


"  TEE  HISTORIC  RUINS  OF  IRELAND:'  43 

The  highest  proof  of  the  Gospel  is  monasticism.  As  I  stand 
before  you,  robed  in  this  Dominican  dress — most  unworthy 
to  wear  it — still,  as  I  stand  before  you,  a  monk,  vowed  to 
God  by  poverty,  chastity  and  obedience, — I  claim  for  my- 
self, such  as  I  am,  this  glorious  title,  that  the  Church  of  God 
regards  us  as  the  very  best  of  her  children.  And  why  ? 
Because  the  cream,  as  it  were,  of  the  Gospel  spirit  is  sacri- 
fice ;  and  the  highest  sacrifice  is  the  sacrifice  that  gives  a 
man  entirely,  without  the  slightest  reserve,  to  God  in  the 
service  of  his  country  and  of  his  fellow-men.  This  sacrifice 
is  embodied  and,  as  it  were,  combined  in  the  monk ;  and, 
therefore,  the  monk  and  the  nun  are  really  the  highest  pro- 
ductions of  Christianity.  Now,  Ireland,  in  the  very  first 
days  of  her  conversion,  so  quickly  caught  up  the  spirit  and 
so  thoroughly  entered  into  the  genius  of  the  gospel,  that  she 
became  a  nation  of  monks  and  nuns  almost  on  the  day  when 
she  became  a  nation  of  Christians.  The  consequence  was 
that  throughout  the  land — in  the  villages,  in  every  little 
town,  on  every  hill-side,  in  every  valley, — these  holy  monks 
were  to  be  found ;  and  they  were  called  by  the  people,  who 
loved  them  and  venerated  them  so  dearly, — they  were  called 
by  the  name  of  Gvldees,  or  servants  of  God. 

Then  came,  almost  at  the  very  moment  of  Ireland's  con- 
version and  Ireland's  abundant  monasticism,  embodied,  as  it 
were,  and  sustained  by  that  rule  of  St.  Columba  which  St. 
Patrick  brought  into  Ireland, — he  having  got  it  from  St. 
Martin  of  Tours,-i-then  came,  at  that  very  time,  the  ruin  and 
desolation  of  almost  all  the  rest  of  the  world.  Rome  was  in 
flames ;  and  the  ancient  Pagan  civilization  of  thousands  of 
years  was  gone.  Hordes  of  barbarians  poured  in  streams 
over  the  'world.  The  whole  of  that  formerly  civilized  world 
seemed  to  be  falling  back  again  into  the  darkness  and  chaos 
of  the  barbarism  of  the  earliest  times ;  but  Ireland,  sheltered 
by  the  encircling  waves,  converted  and  sanctified,  kept  her 
national  freedom,  No  invader  profaned  her  virgin  soil ;  no 
sword  was  drawn,  no  cry  of  battle  or  feud  resounded  through 
the  land  ;  and  the  consequence  was,  that  Ireland,  develop- 
ing her  schools,  entering .  into  every  field  of  learning,  pro- 
duced in  almost  every  monk  a  man  fitted  to  teach  his  fellow- 
men  and  enlighten  the  world.  And  the  whole  world  came 
to  tlieir  monasteries,  from  every  clime,  as  I  have  said  be- 
fore ;  they  filled  the  land ;   and  for  three   hundred  years, 


44: 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


without  the  shadow  of  a  doubt,  history  declares  that  Ireland 
held  the  intellectual  supremacy  of  the  civilized  world.  Then 
were  built  those  groups  of  seven  churches,  here  and  there ; 
then  did  they  fill  the  land ;  then,  when  the  morning  sun 
arose,  every  valley  in  blessed  Ireland  resounded  to  the 
praises  and  the  matin-song  of  the  monk ;  then  the  glorious 
cloisters  of  Lismore,  of  Armagh,  of  Bangor,  of  Arran  arose ; 
and,  far  out  in  the  Western  Ocean,  the  glorious  chorus  re- 
sounded in  praise  of  God,  and  the  musical  genius  of  the  people 
received  its  highest  development  in  hymns  and  canticles  of 
praise — the  expression  of  their  glorious  faith.  For  three 
hundred  years  of  peace  and  joy  it  lasted  ;  and,  during  those 
three  hundred  years,  Ireland  sent  forth  a  Columba  to  Ion  a ; 
a  Virgilius  to  Italy ;  a  Romauld  to  Brabant ;  a  Gall  (or 
Gallus)  to  France ;  in  a  word,  every  nation  in  Europe — even 
Rome  itself, — all  acknowledged  that,  in  those  days,  thp  light 
of  learning  and  of  sanctity  beamed  upon  them  from  the  holy 
progeny  of  saints  that  Ireland,  the  fairest  mother  of  saints, 
produced  and  sent  out  to  sanctify  and  enlighten  the  world. 
And  mark  you,  my  friends ;  these  Irish  monks  were  fearless 
men.  They  were  the  most  learned  men  in  the  world.  For 
instance,  there  was  one  of  them, — at  home  he  was  called 
Fearghal ;  abroad  he  was  called  Virgilius ; — this  man  was  a 
great  astronomer ;  and,  as  early  as  the  seventh  century,  he 
discovered  the  rotundity  of  the  earth,  proclaimed  that  it  was 
a  sphere,  and  declared  the  existence  of  the  antipodes.  In 
those  days  everybody  thought  that  the  earth  was  as  flat  as 
a  pancake  ;  and  the  idea  was  that  a  man  could  walk  as  far 
as  the  land  brought  him,  and  he  would  then  drop  into  the 
sea ;  and  that  if  he  took  a  ship  then,  and  sailed  on  to  a  cer- 
tain point,  why,  then  he  would  go  into  nothing  at  all.  So 
when  this  Irish  monk,  skilled  in  Irish  science,  wrote  a  book, 
and  asserted  this, — which  was  recognized  in  after  ages,  and 
proclaimed  as  a  mighty  discovery, — the  philosophers  and 
learned  men  of  the  time  were  astonished.  They  thought  it 
was  heresy;  and  they  did  the  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world — they  complained  of  him  to  the  Pope  ;  and  the  Pope 
sent  for  him,  examined  him,  examined  his  theory,  and  ex- 
amined his  astronomical  system  ;  and  this  is  the  answer,  and 
the  best  answer  I  can  give  to  those  who  say  that  the  Catho- 
lic Church  is  not  the  friend  of  science  or  of  progress.  What 
do  you  think  was  the  punishment  the  Pope  gave  him  ?    The 


*'  THE  BISTOBIG  RUINS  OF  IRELAND:''         45 

Pope  made  him  Archbisliop  of  Salzburg.  He  told  him  to 
continue  his  discoveries—"  Continue  your  studies,"  he  said ; 
"mind  your  prayers,  and  try  and  discover  all  the  scientific 
truth  that  you  can  ;  for  you  are  a  learned  man."  Well,  Fear- 
ghal  continued  his  studies ;  and  so  well  did  he  study  that  he 
anticipated,  by  centuries,  some  of  the  most  highly  practical 
discoveries  of  modem  ages ;  and  so  well  did  he  mind  his 
prayers,  that  Pope  Gregory  the  Tenth  canonized  him  after 
his  death. 

*  The  Danish  invasion  came,  and  I  need  not  tell  you  that 
these  Northern  warriors,  who  landed  at  the  close  of  the 
eighth  century,  effecting  their  first  landing  near  where  the 
town  of  Skerries  stands  now,  between  Dublin  and  Balbrig- 
gan,  on  the  eastern  coast, — I  need  not  say  that  these  men,  thus 
coming,  came  as  plunderers  and  enemies  of  the  religion  as 
well  as  of  the  nationality  of  the  people.  And  for  three  hun- 
dred years,  wherever  they  came,  and  wherever  they  went,  the 
first  thing  they  did  was  to  put  to  death  all  the  monks,  and 
all  the  nuns,  set  fire  to  the  schools,  and  banish  the  students. 
Inflamed,  in  this  way,  with  the  blood  of  the  peaceful,  they 
sought  to  kill  all  the  Irish  friars ;  and  a  war  of  extermina- 
tion,— a  war  of  interminable  struggle  and  duration,  was 
carried  on  for  three  hundred  years.  Ireland  fought  them  ; 
the  Irish  kings  and  chieftains  fought  them.  We  read  that 
in  one  battle  alone,  at  Glenamada,  in  the  county  of  Wicklow, 
King  Malachi,  he  who  wore  the  "collar  of  gold,"  and  the 
great  King  Brian,  joined  their  forces,  in  the  cause  of  Ireland. 
In  that  grand  day,  when  the  morning  sun  arose,  the  battle 
began ;  and  it  was  not  until  the  sun  set  in  the  evening  that 
the  last  Dane  was  swept  from  the  field,  and  they  withdrew 
to  their  ships,  leaving  six  thousand  dead  bodies  of  their 
warriors,  behind  them.  Thus  did  Ireland,  united^  know  how 
to  deal  with  her  Danish  invaders.  Thus  would  Ireland, 
united,  have  dealt  with  Fitzstephen  and  his  Normans ;  but 
on  the  day  when  they  landed  the  curse  of  disunion  and  dis- 
cord was  among  the  people.  Finally,  after  three  hundred 
years  of  invasion,  Brian,  on  that  Good  Friday  of  1014,  cast 
out  the  Danes  forever,  and  from  the  plain  of  Clontarf  drove 
them  into  Dublin  Bay.  Well,  behind  them  they  left  the 
ruins  of  all  the  religion  they  had  found.  They  left  a  people 
who  had,  indeed,  not  lost  their  faith,  but  a  people  who  were 
terribly  shaken  and  demoralized  by  three  hundred  years  of 


46 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH, 


bloodshed  and  of  war.  One-half  of  it — one-sixth  of  it — 
would  have  been  sufficient  to  ruin  any  other  people ;  but  the 
elements  that  kept  Ireland  alive,: — the  elements  that  kept  the 
Irish  nationality  alive  in  the  hearts  of  the-  people — the  ele- 
ments that  preserved  civilization  in  spite  of  three  centuries 
of  war,  were  the  elements  of  Ireland's  faith  and  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  nation's  by-gone  glory. 

And  now  we  arrive  at  the  year  1134.  Thirty  years  be- 
fore, in  the  year  1103,  the  last  Danish  army  was  conquered 
and  routed  on  the  shores  of  Strangford  Lough,  in  the  North* 
and  the  last  Danish  King  took  his  departure  forever  from 
the  green  shores  of  Erin.  Thirty  years  have  elapsed.  Ire- 
land is  struggling  to  restore,  her  shattered  temples,  her 
ruined  altars,  and  to  build  up  again,  in  all  their  former 
glory  and  sanctity,  her  nationality  and  monastic  priesthood. 
Then  St.  Malachi — great,  glorious  and  venerable  name! — St. 
Malachi,  in  whom  the  best  blood  of  Ireland's  kings  was  min- 
gled with  the  best  blood  of  Ireland's  saints, — was  Arch- 
bishop of  Armagh.  In  the  year  1134^,  he  invited  into  Ire- 
land the  Cistercian  and  the  Benedictine  Monks.  They  came, 
with  all  the  traditions  of  the  most  exalted  sanctity, — with  a 
spirit  not  less  mild  nor  less  holy  than  the  spirit  of  a  Dominic 
or  an  Augustrdie, — and  they  built  up  the  glories  of  Lindis- 
famej  of  lona,  of  Mellifont,  of  Monasterboice  and  of  Mon- 
astereven,  and  all  these  magnificent  ruins  of  which  I  spoke, 
— the  sacred  monastic  ruins  of  Ireland.  Then  the  wonder- 
ing world  beheld  such  grand  achievements  as  it  never  saw 
before,  outri  vailing  in  the  splendor  of  their  magnificence  the 
grandeur  of  those  temples  which  still  attest  the  mediaeval 
greatness  of  Belgium,  of  France,  an4  of  Italy.  Then  did 
the  Irish  people  see,  enshrined  in  these  houses,  the  holy 
solitaries  and  monks  from  Clairveaux,  with  the  light  of  the 
great  St.  Bernard  shining  upon  them  from  his  grave.  But 
only  thirty  years  more  passed — thirty  years  only;  and  be- 
hold, a  trumpet  is  heard  on  the  eastern  coast  of  Ireland ; 
the  shores  and  the  hills  of  that  Wexford  coast  re-echo  to  the 
shouts  of  the  Norman,  as  he  sets  his  accursed  foot  upon 
the  soil  of  Erin.  Divided  as  the  nation  was, — chieftain 
fighting  against  chieftain, — for,  when  the  great  King  Brian 
was  slain  at  Clontarf,  and  his  son  and  his  grandson  wfere 
killed,  and  the  three  generations  of  the  royal  family  thus 
swept  away, — every  strong  man  in  the  land  stood  up  and 


''THE  HISTORIC  RUIN3  OF  IRELAND:'         47 

put  in  his  claim  for  the  sovereignty ;  by  this  division  the 
An»lo-Norman  was  able  to  fix  himself  in  the  land.  Battles 
were  fought  on  every  hill  in  Ireland;  the  most  horrible 
scenes  of  the  Danish  invasion  were  renewed  again.  But 
Ireland  is  no  longer  able  to  shake  the  Saxon  from  her 
bosom ;  for  Ireland  is  no  longer  able  to  strike  him  as  onei 
man.  The  name  of  "  United  Irishmen  "  has  been  a  name, 
and  nothing  but  a  name,  since  the  day  that  Brian  Boru  was 
slain  at  Clontarf  until  this  present  moment.  Would  to 
(Jod  that  this  name  of  United  Irishmen  meant  something 
more  than  an  idle  word !  Would  to  God  that,  again,  to-day, 
we  were  all  united  for  some  great  and  glorious  j^urpose  ! — 
would  to  God  that  the  blessing  of  our  ancient,  glorious  unity 
was  upon  us ! — would  to  God  that  the  blessing  even  of  a 
common  purpose  in  the  love  of  our  country  guided  us; 
then,  indeed,  would  the  Celtic  race  and  the  Celtic  nation  be 
as  strong  as  ever  it  was ; — as  strong  as  it  was  upon  that 
evening  at  Clontarf  which  beheld  Erin  weeping  over  her 
martyred  Brian,  but  beheld  her  with  the  crown  still  upon 
her  brow. 

Sometimes  victorious,  yet  oftener  defeated, — defeated  not 
so  much  by  the  shock  of  the  Norman  onset,  aS  by  the  treach- 
ery and  the  feuds  of  her  own  chieftains — the  heart  of  the 
nation  was  broken.  And,  behold,  from  the  far,  sunny  shores 
of  Italy,  there  came  to  Ireland  other  monks  and  other  mis- 
sionaries clotl^ipd  in  this  very  habit  which  I  now  wear,  or  in 
the  sweet  brown  habit  of  St.  Francis,  or  the  glorious  dress  of 
St.  Augustine.  Unlike  the  monks  who  gave  themselves  up 
to  contemplation,  and  who  had  large  possessions,  large  houses, 
these  men  came  among  the  people,  to  make  tkemselves  at 
home  among  the  people,  to  become  the  "  Soggarths  Aroon  '* 
of  Ireland.  They  came  with  a  learning  as  great  as  that  of 
the  Irish  monks  of  old ;  with  a  sturdy  devotion  as  energetic 
as  that  of  Columbkille,  or  of  Kevin,  of  Glendalough  ;■ — they 
came  with  a  message  of  peace,  of  consolation,  and  of  hope  to 
this  heart-broken  people ;  and  they  came  nearly  seven  hun- 
dred years  ago  to  the  Irish  shores.  The  Irish  people 
received  them  with  a  kind  of  supernatural  instinct  that  they 
had  found  their  champions  and  their  priestly  heroes ;  and  for 
nearly  seven  hundred  years,  the  Franciscan  and  his  Domini- 
can brother  have  dwelt  together  in  the  land.  Instead  of 
building  up  magnificent,  wonderful  edifices,  like  Holy  Cross, 


48 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


or  Mellifont,  or  Dunbrodie  ;  instead  of  covering  acres  with 
the  grandeur  of  their  buildings,  these  Dominicans  and  Fran- 
ciscans went  out  in  small  companies,  ten  or  twelve,  or 
twenty  ;  and  they  went  into  remote  towns  and  villages ;  and 
there  they  dwelt,  and  built  quietly  a  convent  for  themselves; 
and  they  educated  the  people  themselves ;  and  by-and-by  the 
people  in  the  next  generation  learned  to  love  the  disciples  of 
St.  Dominic  and  St.  Francis,  as  they  beheld  the  churches  so 
multiplied.  In  every  townland  of  Ireland  there  was  either^ 
a  Dominican  or  a  Franciscan  church  or  convent.  The 
priests  of  Ireland  welcomed  them;  the  holy  Bishops  of 
Ireland  sustained  them ;  the  ancient  religious  of  Ireland 
gave  them  the  right  hand  of  friendship ;  and  the  Cistercians 
or  Benedictines  gave  them,  very  often,  indeed,  some  of  their 
own  churches  wherein  to  found  their  congregations,  or  to 
begin  their  missions.  They  came  to  dwell  in  the  land 
early  in  the  12th  century;  and  until  the  15th  century, 
strange  to  say,  it  was  not  yet  found  out  what  was  the 
hidden  design  of  Providence  in  bringing  them  there,  in 
what  was  once  their  own  true  and  ancient  missionary  Ireland. 

During  these  three  hundred  years,  the  combat  for  Ireland's 
nationality  was  still  continued.  The  O'Neil,  the  O'Brien,  the 
O'Donnell,  the  McGuire,  the  O'More,  kept  the  national  sword 
waving  in  the  air.  The  Franciscans  and  the  Dominicans 
cheered  them,  entered  into  their  feelings;  and  they  could, 
only  not  be  said  to  be  more  Irish  than  the  Iriah  themselves, 
because  they  were.. the  heart's  blood  of  Irelai^^  They  were 
the  light  of  the  national  councils  of  the  chieftains  of  Ire- 
land, as  their  historians  were  the  faithful  annalists  of  the 
glories  of  these  days  of  combat.  They  saw  the  trouble ; 
and  yet,  for  three  hundred  years,  the  Franciscan  and  the 
Dominican  had  not  discovered  what  their  real  mission  to  Ire- 
land was. 

But,  at  the  end  of  the  three  hundred  years,  came  the  15th 
century.  Then  came  the  cloud  of  religious  persecution  over 
the  land.  All  the  hatred  that  divided  the  Saxon  and  the  Celt, 
on  the  principle  of  nationality,  was  now  heightened  by  the 
additional  hatred  of  religious  discord  and  division ;  and 
Irishmen,  if  they  hated  the  Saxon  before — as  the  enemy  of 
Ireland^s  nationality — from  the  15th  century,  hated  him 
with  an  additional  hatred,  as  the  enemy  of  Ireland's  faith 
and  Ireland's  religion.  The  sword  was  drawn.  My  fiiends,  I 


''*rHE  HISTORIC  BUIN8  OF  IRELAND^         49 

speak  not  in  indignation  but  in  sorrow ;  and  I  know  that  if 
there  be  one  amongst  you,  my  fellow-countrypaen,  here  to- 
night,— if  there  be  a  man  who  differs  with  me  in  religion, — 
to  that  man  I  say :  "  Brother  and  friend,  you  feel  as  deeply 
as  I  do  a  sentiment  of  indignation  and  of  regret  for  the  re- 
ligious persecution  of  our  native  land."  No  man  feels  it 
more — no  man  regi'ets  more  bitterly  the  element  of  religious 
discord,  the  terrible  persecution  of  these  three  hundred 
years,  through  which  Ireland — Catholic  Ireland — has  been 
obliged  to  pass; — no  man  feels  this  more  than  the  high- 
minded,  honest,  kind-hearted  Irish  Protestant.  And  why 
should  he  not  feel  it?  If  it  was  Catholic  Ireland  that  had 
persecuted  Protestant  Ireland  for  that  time,  and  with  such 
intensity,  I  should  hang  my  head  for  shame. 

Well,  that  mild,  scrupulous,  holy  man,  Henry  the  Eighth, 
in  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century  got  a  scruple  of 
conscience!  Perhaps  it  was  while  he  was  saying  his 
prayers!  He  began  to  get  uneasy,  and  to  be  afraid  that, 
may  be,  his  wife  wasn't  his  wife  at  all.  He  wrote  a  letter 
to  the  Pope,  and  he  said:  "Holy  Father,  I  am  very 
uneasy  in  my  mind  !  "  The  fact  was,  there  was  a  very  nice 
young  lady  in  the  court.  Her  name  was  Anna  Boleyn. 
She  was  a  great  beauty.  Henry  got  very  fond  of  her; 
and  he  wanted  to  marry  her.  But  he  could  not  marry  ■ 
her  because  he  was  already  a  married  man.  So  he  wrote 
to  the  Pope,  and  he  said  he  was  uneasy  in  his  mind — 
he  had  a  scruple  of  conscience ; — and  he  said,  "  Holy  Father, 
grant  me  a  favor.  Grant  me  a  divorce  from  Catherine  of 
Arragon.  I  have  been  married  to  her  for  several  years. 
She  has  had  several  children  by  me.  Just  grant  me  this  lit- 
tle favor.  I  want  a  divorce  I "  The  Pope  sent  l^ack  word  to 
him: — "Don't  be  at  all  uneasy  in  your  mind.  Stick  to 
your  wife  like  a  man ;  and  don't  be  troubling  me  with  your 
scruples."  Well,  Hemy  thi'ew  the  Pope  over.  He  mar- 
ried the  young  woman  while  his  former  wife  was  living : — and 
he  should  have  been  taken  that  very  day,  and  tried  before 
the  Lord  Chief  Justice  of  England,  and  transported  for  life. 
And  why?  Because  if  it  had  been  any  other  man  in  Eng- 
land that  did  it  but  the  King,  that  man  would  have  been 
transported  for  life ; — and  the  King  is  as  much  bound  by  the 
I9.WS  of  God,  and  of  justice  and  conscience  and  morality  as 
any  pther  man.  When  Henry  separated  fr^m  the  Pope,  he 
8 


60  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

made  himself  head  of  the  church ;  and  he  told  the  people 
of  England  that  he  would  manage  their  consciences  for  them 
for  the  future.  But  when  he  called  upon  Ireland  to  join 
him  in  this  strange  and  (I  think  my  Protestant  friends  will 
admit,)  insane  act, — for  such,  indeed,  I  think  my  Protestant 
friends  will  admit  this  act  to  be ;  for  I  think  it  was  nothing 
short  of  insanity  for  any  man  of  sense  to  say :  **  I  will  take 
the  law  of  God  as  preached  from  the  lips  and  illustrated  in 
the  life  of  Henry  the  Eighth ;  " — Ix'eland  refused.  Henry 
drew  the  sword,  and  declared  that  Ireland  should  acknowl- 
edge him  as  the  head  of  the  church, — that  she  should  part 
with  her  ancient  faith,  and  with  all  the  traditions  of  her  his- 
tory, to  sustain  him  in  his  measures, — or  that  he  would  ex- 
terminate the  Irish  race.  Another  scruple  of  conscience 
came  to  this  tender-hearted  man !  And  what  do  you  think 
it  was  ?  "  Oh,"  he  said,  "  I  am  greatly  afraid  the  friars 
and  priests  are  not  leading  good  lives."  So  he  set  up  what 
we  call  a  "  Commission  ;  "  and  he  sent  it  to  Ireland  to  in- 
quire what  sort  of  lives  the  monks  and  friars  and  priests 
and  nuns  were  leading;  and  the  Commissioners  sent  back 
word  to  him  that  £hey  could  not  find  any  great  fault  with 
them ;  but  that,  on  the  whole,  they  thought  it  would  be  bet- 
ter to  turn  them  out !  So  they  took  their  convents  and 
their  churches,  and  whatever  little  property  they  possessed ; 
and  these  Commissioners  sold  them  and  put  the  money  into 
their  pockets.  There  was  a  beautiful  simplicity  about  the 
whole  plan. 

Well,  my  friends,  then  came  the  hour  of  the  ruin  of  the 
dear  old  convents  of  the  Franciscans  and  Dominicans. 
Their  inmates  were  driven  out  at  the  point  of  the  sword ; 
they  were  scattered  like  sheep  over  the  land.  Five  pounds 
was  the  price  set  upon  the  head  of  the  friar  or  priest, — the 
same  price  that  was  set  upon  the  head  of  a  wolf.  They  were 
hunted  throughout  the  land  ;  and  when  they  fled  for  their 
lives  fi-oin  their  convent  homes,  the  Irish  people  opened  their 
hearts,  and  said,  "  Come  to  us,  Sogganrth  A.roony  Through- 
out the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land  they  were  scattered, 
with  no  shelter  but  the  canopy  of  Heaven ;  with  no  Sunday 
sacrifice  to  remind  the  people  of  God ;  no  Mass  celebrated  in 
public,  and  no  Gosj)el  preached  :  and  yet  for  three  hundred 
years  they  succeeded  in  preserving  the  glorious  Catholic  faith 
that  is  as  strong  in  Irelmid  to-day  as  ever  it  was.    These  ven- 


"  THE  HI8T0RIC  RUINS  OF  IRELAND^         51 

erable  ruins  tell  the  tale  of  the  nation's  woe,. of  the  nation's 
son-ow.  As  long  as  it  was  merely  a  question  of  destroying 
a  Cistercian  or  a  Benedictine  Abbey,  there  were  so  few  of 
these  in  the  land  that  the  people  did  not  feel  it  much.  But, 
when  the  persecution  came  upon  the  t)rie<vc^Ti,  as  the  friar 
was  called, — the  men  whom  everybody  knew — the  men 
whom  everybody  came  to  look  up  to  for  consolation  in  afflic- 
tion or  in  sorrow; — when  it  came  upon  him — then  it  brought 
SQj;:row  and  affliction  to  every  village,  to  every  little  town, — 
to  everv  man  in  Ireland. 

There  were,  at  this  time,  upwards  of  eighty  convents  of 
religious — Franciscans  and  Dominicans  in  Ireland,  that  num- 
bered very  close  upon  a  thousand  priests,  of  each  order. 
There  were  nearly  a  thousand  Irish  Franciscans,  and  nearly 
a  thousand  Irish  Dominican  priests,  when  Henry  began  his 
persecution.  He  was  succeeded,  after  a  brief  interval  of 
thirty  years,  by  his  daughter  Elizabeth.  How  many  Domini- 
cans, do  you  think,  were  then  left  in  Ireland?  There  had 
been  a  thousand,  you  say  ?  Oh,  God  of  Heaven !  there  were 
only  four  of  them  left, — only  four !  AH  the  rest  of  these 
heroic  men  had  stained  their  white  habit  with  the  blood  that 
they  shed  for  God  and  for  their  country..  Twenty  thousand 
men  it  took  Elizabeth,  for  as  many  years  as  there  were  thou- 
sands of  them,  to  try  to  plant  the  seedling  of  Protestantism 
on  Irish  soil.  The  ground  was  dug  as  for  a  grave ;  the  seed 
of  Protestantism  was  cast  into  that  soil ;  and  the  blood  of  the 
nation  was  poured  in,  to  warm  it  and  to  bring  it  forth.  It 
never  grew ;  it  never  came  forth ;  it  never  bloomed !  Ire- 
land was  as  Catholic  the  day  that  Elizabeth  died  at  Hamp- 
ton Court,  gnawing  the  flesh  off  her  hands  in  despair,  and 
blaspheming  God, — Ireland  was  as  Catholic  that  day  as  she 
was  the  day  that  Henry  the  Eighth  vainly  commanded  her 
first  to  become  Protestant. 

Then  came  a  little  breathing  time, — a  very  short  time, — 
and  in  fifty  years  there  were  six  hundred  Irish  Dominican 
priests  in  Ireland  again.  They  studied  in  Spain,  in  France, 
in  Italy.  These  were  the  youth — the  children  of  Irish 
fathers  and  mothers,  who  cheerfully  gave  them  up,  though 
they  knew  almost  to  a  certainty  that  they  were  devoting 
them  to  a  martyr's  death ;  but  they  gave  them  up  for  God. 
Smuggled  out  of  the  country,  they  studied  in  these  foreign 
lands ;  and  they  came  back  again  by  night  and  by  stealth,  ■ 


62  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRI8K 

» 

and  they  landed  upon  the  shores  of  Ireland;  and  when 
Cromwell  came,  he  foimd  six  hundred  Irish  Dominicans 
upon  the  Irish  land.  Ten  years  after, — only  ten  years  had 
passed, — and  again  the  Irish  Dominican  preachers  assembled 
to  count  up  their  numbers,  and  to  tell  h^w  many  survived 
and  how  many  had  fallen.  How  many  do  you  think  were 
left  out  of  the  six  hundred  ?  But  one  hundred  and  fifty  were 
left ;  four  hundred  and  fifty  had  perished, — had  shed  their 
blood  for  their  country,  or  had  been  shipped  away  to  Barba- 
does  as  slaves !  These  are  the  tales  their  ruins  tell.  I  need 
not  speak  of  their  noble  martyrs.  Oh,  if  these  moss-grown 
stones  of  the  Irish  Franciscan  and  Dominican  ruins  could 
speak,  they  would  tell  how  the  people  gave  up  everything 
they  had  for  years  and  years,  as  wave  after  wave  of  success- 
ive persecutions  and  confiscations  and  robbery  rolled  over 
them, — ^rather  than  renounce  their  glorious  &ith  or  their 
glorious  priesthood. 

When  Elizabeth  died,  the  Irish  Catholics  thought  her 
successor,  James  I.,  would  give  them  at  least  leave  to  live ; 
and,  accordingly,  for  a  short  time  after  he  became  king, 
James  kept  his  own  counsel,  and  he  did  not  tell  the  Irish 
Catholics  whether  he  would  grant  tliem  any  concessions  or 
not ;  but  he  must  have  given  them  some  encouragement,  for 
they  befriended  him,  as  they  had  always  done  to  the  House 
of  Stuart,  But  what  do  you  think  the  people  did?  As 
soon  as  the  notion  that  they  would  be  allowed  to  live  in  the 
land  took  possession  of  them,  and  that  they  would  be  allowed 
to  take  possession  of  the  estates  they  had  been  robbed  of,-^ 
instead  of  minding  themselves,  the  very  first  thing  they  did 
— to  the  credit  of  Irish  fidelity  be  it  said — ^was  to  set  about 
restoring  the  Franciscan  and  Dominican  abbeys.  It  was 
thus  they  restored  the  Black  Abbey,  in  Kilkenny,  a  Domini- 
can House ;  they  restored  the  Dominican  Convent  in  Water- 
ford,  Multifamham,  in  Westmeath,  and  others ;  and  these 
in  a  few  months  grew  up  from  ruin  into  all  their  former 
beauty,  under  the  loving,  faithful,  restoring  hands  of  the 
Irish  people. 

But  soon  came  a  letter  from  the  King ;  and  it  began  with 
these  notable  words  : — 

"  It  has  been  told  to  us,  that  some  of  our  Irish  subjects 
imagined  that  we  were  about  to  grant  them  liberty  of  con- 
science." 


(( 


THE  HISTORIC  BUIN8  OF  IRELAND:^         53 


No  such  thing !  Liberty  of  conscience  for  Irish  Catho- 
lics !  No !  Hordes  of  pei-secutors  were  let  loose  again ; 
and  the  storms  of  persecution  that  burst  over  Ireland  in  the 
days  of  James  I.  were  quite  as  bad  and  as  terrible  as  any 
that  rained  down  blood  upon  the  land  in  the  days  of  Queen 
Elizabeth. 

And  so,  with  varying  fortunes,  now  of  hope,  and  now  of 
fear,  this  self-same  game  went  on.  The  English  determined 
that  they  would  make  one  part  of  Ireland,  at  least,  Prot- 
estant, and  that  the  fairest  and  the  best  portion  of  it, 
as  they  imagined, — namely,  the  province  of  Ulster.  Now, 
mark  the  simple  way  they  went  about  it.  They  made  up 
their  minds  that  they  would  make  one  province  of  Ireland 
Protestanty  to  begin  with,  in  order  that  it  might  spread  out 
by  degrees  to  the  others.  And  what  did  they  do  ?  ,  They 
gave  notice  to  every  Catholic  in  Ulster  to  pack  up  and 
begone, — to  leave  the  land.  They  confiscated  every  single 
acre  in  the  fair  province  of  Ulster;  and  the  Protes- 
*tant  Primate,  the  Archbishop  of  Armagh, — a  very  holy 
man,  who  was  always  preaching  to  the  people  not  to  be 
too  fond  of  the  things  of  this  world, — he  got  43,000  acres  of 
the  best  land  of  these  convents  in  fee.  Tiinity  College,  in  Dub- 
lin, got  30,000  acres.  There  were  certain  guilds  of  traders 
in  London,— the  "  Skinners,"  th^  "  Tanners,"  the  "  Dry- 
Salters  ; "  and  what  do  you  think  these  London  Trade  Asso- 
ciations got  ?  They  got  a  present  of  two  hundred  and  nine 
thousand  eight  hundred  acres  of  the  finest  land  in  Ulster. 
Then  all  the  rest  of  the  province  was  given  in  lots  of  1,000, 
1,500  to  2,000  acres  to  Scotchmen  and  Englishmen.  But  the 
very  deed  that  gave  it  obliged  them  to  take  their  oath  that 
they  would  accept  that  land  upon  this  condition — not  so 
much  as  to  give  a  day's  work  to  a  laboring  man,  unless  that 
laboring  man  took  his  oath  that  he  was  not  a  Catholic.  And, 
so,  Ulster  vas  disposed  of.  That  remained  until  Cromwell 
came  ; — and  when  the  second  estimate  was  made  of  the  king- 
dom it  was  discovered  that  there  were  nearly  five  millions 
of  acres  lying  still  in  the  hands  of  the  Catholics.  And  what 
did  Cromwell  do?  He  quietly  made  a  law,  and  he  pub- 
lished it — and  he  said  that,  on  the  1st  of  May,  1654,  every 
Catholic  in  Ireland  was  to  cross  the  Shannon,  and  to  go  into 
Connaught.  Now,  the  river  Shannon  cuts  off  five  of  the 
Western  counties  from  the. rest  of  Ireland;  and  these  five 


54  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

counties,  though  very  large  in  extent,  have  more  of  waste 
land,  of  bog,  and  of  hard,  unproductive,  stony  soil  than  all 
the  rest  of  Ireland.  I  am  at  liberty  to  say  this,  because  I, 
myself,  am  the  heart's  blood  of  a  Connaughtman.  If  any 
other  man  said  this  of  Connaught,  I  would  have  to  say 
my  prayers,  and  keep  a  very  sharp  eye  about  me,  to  try  to 
keep  my  temper.  But  it  is  quite  true;  with  all  our  love 
for  our  native  land,  with  all  my  love  for  my  native  province 
— all  that  love  will  not  put  a  blade  of  grass  on  an  acre  of 
limestone ;  and  that  there  are  acres  of  such,  we  all  know. 
It  was  an  acre  of  this  sort  that  a  poor  fellow  was  building  a 
wall  around.  "  What  are  you  building  that  wall  for?  "  said 
the  landlord.  "Are  you  afraid  the  cattle  will  get  out?" 
"  No,  your  honor,  indeed,  I  am  not,"  said  the  poor  man ; 
*'  but  I  was  afraid  the  poor  brutes  might  get  in !  "  Then 
Cromwell  sent  the  Catholics  of  Ireland  to  Connaught ; — and 
remember  he  gave  them  their  choice ;  he  said,  "  Now,  if  you 
don't  like  to  go  to  Connaught,  I  will  send  you  to  hell !  "  So 
the  Catholic  Irish  put  their  heads  together,  and  they  said  : 
"  It  is  better  for  us  to  go  to  Connaught !  He  may  want  the 
other  place  for  himself!"  God  forbid  that  I  should  con- 
demn any  man  to  hell ;  but  I  cannot  help  thinking  of,what  a 
poor  carman  said  to  myself  in  Dublin  once.  Going  along, 
he  saw  a  likeness  of  Cromwell ;  and  he  said :  "  At  all  events 
Cromwell  has  gone  to  the  devil !  "  I  said,  "  My  man,  don't 
be  uncharitable.  Don't  say  that ;  it  is  uncharitable  to  say 
it."  "  Thunder  and  tui-f  !  "  said  he,  "  sure  if  he  is  not  gone 
to  the  devil,  where  is  the  use  of  having  a  devil  at  all  !  " 
At  any  rate,  my  friends,  wherever  he  is  gone  to,  he  confis- 
cated, by  one  act,  five  millions  of  acres  of  Irish  land ;  with  one 
stroke  of  his  pen,  he  handed  over  to  his  Cromwellian  sol- 
diers five  million  acres  of  the  best  land  in  Ireland,  the  Gol- 
den Yale  of  Tipperary  included. 

Forty  years  later,  the  Catholics  began  to  creep  out  of 
Connaught,  and  to  buy  little  lots  here  and  there ;  and  they 
got  a  few  lots  here  and  there,  given  to  them  by  their  Protes- 
tant friends.  But,  at  any  rate,  it  was  discovered  by  the 
Government  of  England  that  the  Catholics  in  Ireland  were 
beginning  to  get  a  little  bit  of  the  land  again ;  and  they  is- 
sued another  "  Commission"  to  inquire  into  the  titles  to  these 
properties ;  and  they  found  that  one  million  two  hundred 
thousand  acres  of  the  land  had  recurred  to  the  Catholics ; 


"  TEE  EISTORIG  RUINS  OF  IRELAND:'         55 

and  they  found,  also,  that  that  land  belonged  to  the  Crown ; 
and  the  million  two  hundred  thousand  acres  were  again  con- 
fiscated. So  that,  as  soon  as  the  people  began  to  take  hold 
of  the  land  at  all,  down  came  the  sword  of  persecution  and 
of  confiscation  upon  them.  And  Cromwell  himself  avowed 
with  the  greatest  solemnity,  that  as  Ireland  w^ould  not  be- 
come Protestant,  Ireland  should  be  destroyed. 

Now,  is  it  to  excite  your  feelings  of  hatred  against  England 
that  I  say  these  things  ?  No,  no  !  I  don't  want  any  man 
to  hate  his  neighbor.  I  don't  want  to  excite  these  feelings. 
Nor  do  I  believe  it  is  necessary  for  me  to  excite  them.  I 
believe  sincerely  that  an  efibrt  to  excite  an  Irishman  to  a 
dislike  of  England,  would  be  something  like  an  efibrt  to  en- 
courage a  cat  to  take  a  mouse.  I  mention  these  facts,  first, 
because  these  are  the  things  that  Ireland's  ruins  tell  us; 
because  these  are  at  once  the  history  of  the  weakness  and 
the  sadness,  yet  of  the  strength  and  of  the  glory  of  which 
these  ruins  tell  us.  I  mention  these  things,  because  they 
are  matter  of  history ;  and  because,  though  we  are  the  party 
that  were  on  the  ground,  prostrate,  there  is  nothing  in  the 
history  of  our  fathers  at  which  the  Irishman  of  t»-day  need 
be  ashamed,  or  hang  his  head.  But  if  you  want  to  know  in 
what  spirit  our  people  dealt  with  all  this  persecution ;  if 
you  want  to  know  how  we  met  those  who  were  thus  terrible 
in  their  peraecution  of  us, — I  appeal  to  the  history  of  my 
country ;  and  I  will  state  to  you  three  great  facts  that  will 
show  you  what  was  the  glorious  spiiit  of  the  Irish  people, 
even  in  the  midst  of  their  sorrows ; — how  Christian  it  was, 
and  how  patient  it  was; — how  forgiving  and  how  loving 
even  to  our  persecutors  it  was; — how  grandly  they  illus- 
trated the  spirit  of  duty  at  the  command  of  their  Lord  and 
Saviour ;  and  how  magnificently  they  returned  good  for  evil. 
The  first  of  these  facts  is  this : 

At  the  time  that  England  invaded  Ireland, — towards  the 
close  of  the  twelfth  century, — there  were  a  number  of  English- 
men in  slavery  in  Ireland.  They  had  been  taken  prisoners 
of  war ;  they  had  come  over  with  the  Danes, — from  Wales 
and  from  North  .Britain,  with  their  Danish  su]>eriors ;  and 
when  Ireland  conquered  them,  the  rude,  terrible  custom  of 
the  times,  and  the  shocks  that  all  peaceful  spirit  had  got  by 
these  wars,  had  bred  so  much  ferocity  in  the  people,  that 
they  actually  made  slaves  of  these  Englishmen.     And  they 


56 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


were  everywhere  in  the  land.  "vYhen  the  English  landed  in 
Ireland,  and  when  the  first  Irish  blood  was  shed  by  them, 
the  nation,  assembled  by  its  Bishops  and  Archbishops  in 
synod,  at-  Armagh,  there  said  :  "  Perhaps  the  Almighty  God 
is  angry  with  us  because  we  have  these  captive  Christians 
and  Saxons  among  us,  and  punishes  us  for  having  made 
them  slaves.  In  the  name  of  God,  we  will  set  them  free." 
And  on  tliat  day  every  soul  in  Ireland  that  was  in  slavery, 
received  his  freedom.  Oh,  what  a  grand  and  glorious  sight 
before  Hea.ven  ! — a  nation  fit  to  be  free,  but  enslaved, — yet, 
with  the  very  hand  on  which  others  were  trying  to  fasten 
their  chains,  strikiug  oflf  the  chains  from  these  English 
slaves  !  Never  was  there  a  more  glorious  illustration  of  the 
Heavenly  influence  of  Christianity  since  Christianity  was 
preached  among  the  nations. 

The  next  incident  is  rather  a  ludicrous  one,  and  I  am 
afraid  that  it  will  make  you  laugh.  My  friends,  I  know  the 
English  people  well.  Some  of  the  best  friends  that  I  have 
in  the  world  are  in  England.  They  have  a  great  many  fine 
qualities.  But  there  is  a  secret,  quiet,  passive  contempt  for 
Ireland ; — land  I  really  believe  it  exists  among  the  very  best  ^ 
of  them,  with  very  few  exceptions.  An  Englishman  will  not, " 
as  a  general  rule,  hate  an  Irishman  joined  to  him  in  faith  ; 
but  he  will  quietly  despise  us.  If  we  rise  and  become  frac- 
tious, then,  perhaps,  he  will  fear  us ;  but,  generally  speaking, 
in  the  English  heart  there  is,  no  doubt,  a  contempt  for  Ire- 
land and  for  Irishmen.  Now,  that  showed  itself  remarkably 
in  1666.  •  In  that  year-  the  Catholics  of  Ireland  were  ground 
into  the  very  dust.  That  year  saw  one  hundred  thousand 
Irishmen — six  thousand  of  them  beautiful  boys — sent  off  to 
be  sold  as  slaves  in  the  sugar  plantations  of  Barbadoes. 
That  year  London  was  burned,  just  as  Chicago  was  burned 
the  other  day.  The  people  were  left  in  misery.  The  Catho- 
lics of  Ireland, — hunted,  persecuted,  scarcely  able  to  live, — 
actually  came  together,  and,  out  of  pure  charity,  they  made 
up  for  the  famishing  people  of  London  a  present — a  grand 
present.  They  sent  them  over  fifteen  thousand  fat  bullocks. 
They  knew  John  Bull's  taste  for  beef.  They  knew  his  lik- 
ing for  a  good  beef-steak ;  and  they  actually  sent  him  the 
best  beef  in  the  world — Irish  beef.  The  bullocks  arrived  in 
London.  The  English  people  took  them,  slaughtered  them, 
and  ate  them ; — and  the  Irish  Catholics  said,  "  Much  good 


\ 


* 


"  THE  UmTORIG  MUmS  OF  IRELANDy  67 

may  they  do  you."  Now  comes  the  funny  part  of  it.  When 
the  bullocks  were  all  killed  and  eaten,  the  people  of  London 
got  up  a  petition  to  the  Houses  of  Parliament,  and  they  got 
Parliament  to  act  on  that  petition ;  it  was  to  the  effect  that 
this  importation  of  Irish  oxen  was  a  nuisance  ;  and  it  should 
be  abated.  But  they  had  taken  good  care  J«o  eat  the  meat 
before  they  voted  it  a  nuisance. 

The  third  great  instance  of  Ireland's  magjianimous  Chris- 
tianity, and  of  the  magnanimity  with  which  this  brave  and 
grand  old  people  knew  how  to  return,  good  for  evil,  was  in 
the  time  of  King  James.  In  the  year  1689, — exactly  twenty 
years  after  the  Irish  bullocks  had  been  voted  a  nuisance  in 
Ijondon, — in  that  year  there  happened  to  be,  for  a  short 
time,  a  Catholic  King  in  England.  The  tables  were  turned. 
The  King  went  to  work  and  he  turned  out  the  Irish  JLiord 
Chancellor,  because  he  was  a  Protestant ;  and  he  put  in  a 
Catholic  Chancellor  in  his  place.  He  turned  out  two  Irish 
Judges,  because  they  were  Protestants;  and  he  put  in  two 
Englishmen,  Catholics,  as  Judges  in  their  place.  He  did 
various  actions  of  this  kind,  persecuting  men,  because  they 
were  Protestants  and  he  was  a  Catholic.  And,  now,  mark  ! 
We  hav6  it  on  the  evidence  of  history  that  the  Catholic 
Archbishop  of  Armagh  and  the  Catholic  Pope  of  Rome 
wrote  to  James  the  Second,  through  the  Lord  Lieutenant 
over  the  Irish  Catholics  there,  that  he  had  no  right  to  do 
that — and  that  it  was  very  wrong.  Oh,  what  a  contrast ! 
When  Charles  the  First  wished  to  grant  some  little  remis- 
sion of  the  persecution  in  Ireland,  because  he  was  in  want 
of  money,  the  Irish  Catholics  sent  him  word  that  they  would 
give  him  two  hundred  thousand  pounds  if  he  would  only  give 
them  leave  to  worship  God  as  their  own  consciences  directed. 
What  encouragemeut  the  King  gave  them  we  know  not ;  at 
any  rate,  they  sent  him  a  sum  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  thou- 
sand pounds,  by  way  of  instalment.  But  the  moment  it 
became  rumored  abroad,  the  Protestant  Archbishop  of 
Dublin  got  up  in  the  pulpit  of  St.  Patrick's  Cathedral,  and 
he  declared  that  a  curse  would  fall  upon  the  land  and  upon 
the  King,  because  of  these  anticipated  concessions  to  the 
Catholics.  What  a  contrast  is  here  presented  between  the 
action  of  the  Catholic  people  of  Ireland  and  the  action  of 
their  oppressors !  And  in  these  instances  have  we  not  pre- 
sented to  us  the  strongest  evidence  that  the  people  who  can 
8* 


58 


IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRISH. 


act  so  by  their  enemies  were  incapable  of  being  crushed ! 
Yes ;  Ireland  can  never  be  crushed  or  conquered ;  Ireland 
can  never  lose  her  nationality,  so  long  as  she  retains  so  high 
and  so  glorious  a  faith,  and  presents  so  magnificent  an  illus- 
tration of  it  in  her  national  life.  Never !  She  has  not  lost 
it!  She.  has  it  to-day.  She  will  have  it  in  the  higher  and 
a  more  perfect  form  of  complete  and  entire  national  freedom ; 
— for  God  does  not  abandon  a  race  who  not  only  cling  to 
Him  with  an  unchanging  faith,  but  who  also  know  how,  in 
the  midst  of  their  sufierings,  to  illustrate  that  faith  by  so 
glorious,  so  liberal,  so  grand  a  spirit  of  Christian  charity. 

And  now,  my  friends,  it  is  for  me  simply  to  draw  one 
conclusion,  and  to  have  dpne.  Is  there  a  man  among  us 
here  to-night  who  is  ashamed  of  his  race  or  his  native  land, 
if  thai  man  have  the  high  honor  to  be  an  Irishman  ?  Is 
there  a  man  living  that  can  point  to  a  more  glorious  or  a 
purer  source  whence  he  draws  the  blood  in  his  veins  than 
the  "Blan  who  can  point  to  the  bravery  of  his  Irish  fore- 
fathers or  the  immaculate  purity  of  his  Irish  mother  ?  We 
glory  in  them,  and  we  glory  in  the  faith  for  which  .our  ances- 
tors have  died.  We  glory  in  the  love  of  country  that 
never, — never, — for  an  instant, — admitted  that  Ireland  was 
a  mere  province, — that  Ireland  was  merely  a  "West 
Britain."  Never  in  our  darkest  hour  was  that  idea  adapted 
to  the  Irish  mind,  or  adopted  by  the  will  of  the  Irish  people. 
And,  therefore,  I  say,  if  we  glory  in  that  faith — if  we  glory 
in  the  history  of  their  national  conduct  and  of  their  national 
love,  oh,  my  friends  and  fellow-countrymen — I  say  it  as 
well  as  a  priest  as  an  Irishman — let  us  emulate  their  exam- 
ple ;  let  us  learn  to  be  generous  to  those  who  differ  from  us 
— and  let  us  learn  to  be  charitable  even  to  those  who  would 
fain  injure  us.  We  can  thus  conquer  them.  We  can  thus 
assure  to  the  future  of  Ireland  the  blessings  that  have  been 
denied  to  her  past, — the  blessing  of  religious  equality,  the 
blessing  of  religious  liberty-^  the  blessing  of  religious  unity, 
which  one  day  or  other  will  spring  up  in  Ireland  again.  I 
have  often  heard  words  of  bitterness,  aye,  and  of  insult, 
addressed  to  myself  in  the  North  of  Ireland,  coming  from 
Orange  lips;  but  I  have  always  said  to  myself:  *' He  is  an 
Irishman ;  though  he  is  an  Orangeman,  he  is  an  Irishman. 
If  he  lives  long  enough,  he  will  learn  to  love  the  priest  that 
represents  Ireland's  old  faith ;  but  if  he  die  in  his  Orange 


*'  TEE  HISTORIC  RUINS  OF  IRELAND.''  69 

dispositions,  his  son  or  his  grandson  will  yet  shake  hands 
with  and  bless  the  priest,  when  he  and  I  are  both  in  our 
gi-aves."  And  why  do  I  say  this  ?  Because  nothing  bad, 
nothing  uncharitable,  nothing  barsh  or  venomous  ever  yet 
lasted  long  upon  the  green  soil  of  Ireland.  If  you  throw  a 
poisonous  snake  into  the  gj-ass  of  Ireland  he  will  be  sweet- 
ened, so  as  to  lose  his  poison, — or  else  he  will  die.  Even 
the  English  people,  when  they  landed,  were  not  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  yeai-s  in  the  land  until  they  were  part  of  it ; 
the  very  Normans  who  invaded  us  became  "  more  Irish  than 
the  Irish  themselves."  They  became  so  fond  of  the  country, 
that  they  were  thoroughly  imbued  with  its  spirit.  And,  so, 
any  evil  that  we  have  in  Ireland  is  only  a  temporary  and  a 
passing  evil,  if  we  are  only  faithful  to  our  traditions  and  to 
the  history  of  our  country.  To-day  there  is  religious  dis- 
union ;  but,  thanks  be  to  God,,  I  have  lived  to  see  religious 
disabilities  destroyed.  And  if  I  were  now  in  the  position 
of  addressing  Irish  Orangemen,  I  would  say,  "  Men  of  Erin, 
three  cheers  for  Church  disestablishment !  "  And  if  they 
should  ask  me,  "Why?"  I  would  answer:  "  It  was  right 
and  proper  to  disestabhsh  the  Church,  because  the  *  Estab- 
lished Church'  was  put  in  between  you  and  i^e;  and  we 
ought  to  love  each  other,  for  we  are  both  Irish !  "  Every 
class  in  Ireland  will  be  drawn  closer  to  the  other  by  this 
disestablishment ;  and  the  honest  Protestant  man  will  begin 
to  know  a  little  more  of  his  Catholic  brother,  and  to  admire 
him ;  and  the  Catholic  will  begin  to  know  a  little  more  of 
the  Orangeman,  and,  perhaps,  to  say:  "After  all  he  is  not 
half  so  bad  as  he  appears."  And  believe  me,  my  friends, 
that,  breathing  the  air  of  Ireland,  which  is  Catholic,  eating 
the  bread  made  out  of  the  wheat  which  grows  out  of  Irish 
soil, — they  will  get  so  infused  vdth  Catholic  blood,  that,  as 
soon  as  the  Orangeman  begins  to  have  the  slightest  regard 
or  love  for  his  Catholic  fellow-countryman  he  is  on  the  high- 
way to  become  a  Catholic ; — for  a  Catholic  he  will  be  some- 
time or  other.  As  a  man  said  to  me  very  emphatically 
once,  "They  will  all  be  Catholics  one  day,  surely,  sir,  if 
they  only  stay  long  enough  in  the  country !  " 

I  say,  my  friends,  that  the  past  is  the  best  guarantee  for 
the  future.  We  have  seen  the  past  in  some  of  its  glories. 
What  is  the  future  to  be  ?  What  is  the  future  that  is  yet 
to  dawn  on  this  dearly  loved  land  of  ours  ?     Oh,  how  glori- 


60 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IBI8E. 


oiis  will  that  future  be,  when  all  Irishmen  shall  be  united  in 
one  common  faith  and  one  common  love  ?  Oh,  how  fair 
will  our  beloved  Erin  be  when,  clothed  in  religious  unity, 
religious  equality,  and  freedom,  she  shall  rise  out  of  the 
ocean  wave,  as  fair,  as  lovely,  in  the  end  of  time,  as  she  was 
in  the  glorious  days  when  the  world,  entranced  by  her 
beauty,  proclaimed  her  to  be  the  Mother  of  Saints  and 
Sages !  Yes ;  I  see  her  lising,  emancipated ;  no  trace  of 
blood  or  persecution  on  her  virgin  face ; — the  crown,  so  long 
lost  to  her,  resting  again  upon  her  fair  brow !  I  see  her  in 
peace  and  concord  with  all  the  nations  around  her,  and  with 
her  own  children  within  her.  I  gee  her  venerated  by  the 
nations  afar  off;  and,  most  of  all,  by  the  mighty  nation 
which,  in  that  day,  in  its  strength,  and  in  its  youth,  and  in 
its  vigor,  shall  sway  the  destinies  of  the  world.  I  see  her 
as  Columbia  salutes  her  across  the  ocean  waves.  But  the 
light  of  freedom  coming  from  around  my  mother's  face  will 
reflect  the  light  of  freedom  coming  from  the  face  of  that 
nation  which  has  been  nursed  in  freedom,  cradled  in  free- 
dom, and  which  has  never  violated  the  sacred  principles  of 
religious  freedom  and  religious  equality.  I  see  her  with  the 
light  of  failh  shining  upon  her  face ;  and  I  see  her  revered, 
beloved  and  cherished  by  the  nations  as  an  ancient  and  a 
most  precious  thing.  I  behold  her  rising  in  the  energy  of 
a  second  birth,  when  nations  that  have  held  their  heads  high 
are  humbled  in  the  dust. 
Erin !  and  I  say  to  thee — 


And,  so,  I  hail  thee,  O  mother 


"  The  nations  have  fallen,  but  thou  still  art  young ; 
Thy  sun  is  but  rising  when  others  have  set, 
And  though  slavery's  clouds  round  thy  morning  have  hung. 
The  full  noon  of  freedom  shall  beam  round  thee  yet  1 " 


THE  « EXILES  OF  EEIN." 

{Lecture  delivered  by  the  Very.  Reo.  T.  N:  BurTce^  in  tTie  Academy  o^ 
MiisiCf  New  York,  on  Wednesday  evening^  May  22d,  1872. ) 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen  :  One  of  the  strongest  passions, 
and  the  noblest,  that  God  has  implanted  in  the  heart  of  man 
is  the  love  of  the  land  that  bore  him.  The  poet  says,  and 
well : 

*'  Breathes  there  a  man  with  sonl  so  dead, 
"Who  never  to  himself  has  said, 
This  is  my  own,  my  native  land." 

The  pleasure  of  standing  upon  the  soil  of  onr  birth ;  the 
pleasure  of  preserving  the  associations  that  surrounded  our 
boyhood  and  our  youth ;  the  pleasure — sad  and  melancholy 
though  it  be — of  watching  every  gray  hair  and  every 
wrinkle  that  time  sends  even  to  those  whom  we  love, — these 
are  amongst  the  keenest  and  the  best  pleasures  of  which  the 
heart  of  man  is  capable.  Therefore  it  is  that,  at  all  times, 
exile  from  native  land  has  been  looked  upon  by  men  as  a 
penalty  and  a  grievance.  This  is  true  even/ of  men  whom 
nature  has  placed  upon  the  most  rugged  and  barren  soil.  The 
Swiss  peasant,  who  lives  amidst  the  everlasting  snows  of  the 
Upper  Alps,  who  sees  no  form  of  beauty  in  nature  except 
her  grandest  and  most  austere  and  rugged  proportions,  yet  so 
dearly  loves  his  arid  mountain-home,  that  it  is  heart-break- 
ing to  him  to  be  banished  from  it,  even  though  he  were 
placed  to  spend  his  exile  in  the  choicest  and  most  delicious 
quarters  of  the  earth.  Much  more  does  the  pain  of  exile 
rest  upon  the  children  of  a  race,  at  once  the  most  generous, 
the  most  kind-hearted,  and  the  most  loving  in  the  world. 
Much  more  does  it  rest  upon  the  children  of  a  race  who 
look  back  to  their  mother-land  as  to  a  fair  and  beautiful 
land ;  a  climate  temperate  and  delicious ;  a  soil  fruitful 
and  abundant ;  scenery,  now  rising  into  the  glory  of  magni- 
ficence, now  sinking  into  the  tenderest  pastoml  beauty ;  a 
history  the  grandest  of  all  the  nations  of  the  earth ;  associ- 


62 


IRELAim  AND  THE  IBI8H. 


ations  the  tenderest,  because  the  purest  and  most  Christian. 
And  all  these,  and  more,  aggravate  the  misery  and  enhance 
the  pain,  which  the  Irishman,  of  all  other  men,  feels  when  he 
is  exiled  from  his  native  land. 

And  yet,  my  friends,  amongst  the  tlestinies  of  the  nations, 
the  destiny  of  the  Irish  race,  from  the  earliest  time,  has  been 
that  of  voluntary  or  involuntary  exile.  Two  great  features 
distinguish  the  history  of  our  race  and  our  people.  The  first 
of  those  is  that  we  are  a  warrior  and  warlike  race, — quick, 
impulsive,  generous,  frateraal,  and  fond  of  a  fight  for  the 
sake  of  a  fight.  Indeed,  the  student  of  history  must  see 
that  wherever  the  Celtic  blood  is,  there  is  a  taste  for  military 
organization  and  for  war.  Whilst  the  Teuton  and  the  Saxon 
are  contented  with  their  prosperity,  and  very  often  attain  to 
the  end  of  their  aims  more  directly  and  more  successfully 
by  negotiations,  the  Celt,  wherever  he  is,  is  always  ready  to 
resent  an  insult  or  an  injury,  and  to  create  one  for  the  sake 
of  resenting  it,  very  often,  when  it  is  not  intended.  How 
strangely  has  not  this  great, fact  been  brought  out  in  relation 
to  the  great  Celtic  nation  of  France — France,  which  is  of 
the  same  race,  and  the  same  stock,  and  the  same  blood  as 
Ireland.  France,  to  whom,  in  weal  or  woe,  the  heart  of  Ire- 
land hivS  always  throbbed  sympathetically ;  exulting  in  her 
joys,  or  lamenting  or  weeping  over  her  sorrows.  Hundreds 
of  years  of  history  lie  before  us ;  and  this  French  Celtic  race 
has  always  been  engaged,  in  eveiy  age  and  every  time,  in 
war  with  their  more  prudent  and  more  cold-blooded  neighbors 
around  them.  Now,  if  you  look  through  history,  you  will 
invariably  find  that  France  (or  the  Celt,)  was  always  the 
first  to  fling  down  the  glove,  or  draw  the  sword  and  cry  out 
"  War !  "  Even  in  the  late  fatal  war,  things  were  so  man- 
aged and  so  arranged  that,  while  Bismarck  was  smiling  and 
shrugging  his  shoulders,  and  "  invisibly  washing  his  hands 
in  imperceptible  water,"  the  French,  the  moment  they  saw 
that  war  was  possible,  that  moment,  unprepared  as  they 
were, — not  stopping  to  calculate  or  reflect, — they  rushed  to 
the  front.  They  are  trodden  in  the  earth  to-day ;  but  that 
gallant  flag  of  France  has  gone  down  without  dishonor,  as 
long  as  it  was  upheld  by  the  heroic  hands  of  the  Celt. 

As  it  was  with  our  French  cousins,  so,  for  good  or  bad 
luck,  as  you  will,  has  it  been  with  ourselves.  From  the  day 
that  the  Dane  landed  in  Ireland,  at  the  close  of  the  eighth 


THE  ''EXILES  OF  EBm»  63 

century,  down  to  this  blessed  day,  at  the  close  of  the  nine- 
teenth century, — for  the  last  eleven  hundred  years,  Ireland 
has  been  fighting !  War !  war  !  incessant  war !  War  with 
the  Dane,  for  three  hundred  years ;  war  with  the  Saxon,  for 
eight  hundred  years.  And,  unfortunately  for  Ireland,  if  we 
had  not  the  Dane  and  the  Saxon  to  fight  with,  we  picked 
quarrels  and  fought  with  one  another. 

Now  the  second  great  feature  of  our  destiny,  as  traced  in 
our  history,  is  that  it  was  the  will  of  God  and  our  fate  that 
a  large  portion  of  our  people  should  be  constantly  either 
driven  from  the  Irish  shore  or  obliged  to  leave  it  by  the 
course  of  circumstances,  or  apparently  of  their  own  free  will. 
The  Irish  Exile  is  a  name  recognized  in  history.  The  Irish 
Ejile  is  not  a  being  of  yesterday  or  of  last  year.  "We  turn 
over  these  honored  pages  of  history ;  we  come  to  the  very 
brightest  pages  of  the  national  records,  and  still  we  find, 
emblazoned  upon  the  annals  of  every  nation  of  the  earth, 
the  gi*and  and  the  most  honored  names  of  the  Exiles  op 
Erin.  It  is  therefore  to  this  theme  that  I  invite  your  atten- 
tion this  evening.  And  why  ?  Because,  my  friends,  I  hold 
as  an  Irishman,  that,  next  to  the  Gospel  I  preach,  and  to  the 
religion  that  I  love,  come  the  gospel  and  the  religion  of  my 
love  for  Ireland  and  my  glory  in  her.  Every  point  in  her 
history  that  is  a  record  of  glory,  brings  a  joy  to  your  heart 
and  to  mine.  •  The  argument  that  builds  up  the  temple  of 
Irish  fame  upon  the  foundations  of  religion  and  valor, — every 
argument,  I  say,  is  an  argument  to  induce  in  your  hearts 
and  mine  the  strong,  stormy  feeling  of  pride  for  our  native 
land.  Why  should  we  not  be  proud  of  her  ?  Has  she  ever, 
— in  that  long  record  of  our  history, — has  she  ever  wronged 
or  oppressed  any  people  ?  Never !  Has  she  ever  attempted 
to  plunder  from  any  people  their  sacred  birthright  of  liberty  ? 
Never  I  Has  she  ever  refused,  upon  the  invitation  of  the 
Church  and  her  own  conscience,  to  undo  the  chains  and  to 
strike  them  ofi*  the  limbs  of  the  slave  ?  Never !  Has  she 
ever  drawn  that  sword,  which  she  has  wielded  for  centuries, 
in  an  unjust  or  doubtful  cause  ?  Never !  Blood  has  stained 
the  sword  of  Ireland  for  ages ;  that  blood  has  dripped  from 
the  national  sword;  but  never  did  Ireland's  sword  shed  a 
drop  of  blood  unjustly,  but  only  in  the  defence  of  the  high- 
est and  holiest  and  best  of  causes, — the  altar  of  God  and  the 
honor  of  ihe  nation. 


64 


IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRISH. 


And  now,  my  friends,  coming  to  consider  the  "  Exiles  of 
Erin,"  I  find  three  great  epochs  are  marked  in  the  history 
of  Ireland,  with  the  sign  of  the  exodus  and  exile  of  her  chil- 
dren upon  them.  The  first  of  these  goes  back  for  nearly 
fourteen  hundred  years.  In  the  year  432,  Patrick,  coming 
from  Rome,  preached  the  Catholic  faith  to  Ireland ;  and  the 
Irish  mind,  and  the  Irish  heart  sprang  to  that  faith,  took  it 
and  embraced  it,  and  put  it  into  her  blood,  and  into  the 
lives  of  her  children ;  and  she  became  Catholic  under  the 
very  hand  of  an  apostle,  such  as  no  nation  on  the  earth  ever 
did,  or  ever  will  know,  until  the  end  of  time.  At  once  the 
land  became  a  land,  not  only  of  Christians,  but  of  saints. 
"Wise  and  holy  kings  ruled  and  governed  in  Tara.  Wise  and 
saintly  counsellors  guided  them.  Every  law  was  obeyed  so 
perfectly,  and  so  implicitly,  that  in  the  records  of  our  na- 
tional annals  it  is  told  that,  under  the  golden  reign  of  the 
great  King  Brian,  a  young  and  unprotected  female  could 
walk  from  one  end  of  the  land  to  the  other,  laden  with  golden 
treasure ;  and  no  man  would  insult  her  virtue,  or  bring  a 
blush  to  her  virgin  cheek ;  nor  attempt  to  rob  her  of  the 
rich  and  valuable  things  that  she  wore.  Then  the  Irish 
heart,  enlarged  and  expanded  by  the  new  element  of  Chris- 
tian charity,  which  was  infused  into  the  nation,  with  its  re- 
ligion ;  the  Irish  mind,  before  so  cultivated  in  all  Pagan  lit- 
erature, now  enlightened  with  the  higher  and  more  glorious 
rays  of  faith, — this  heart  and  mind  of  Ireland  looked  out 
with  pity  upon  the  nations  who  were  around  them,  sitting  in 
darkness,  in  barbarism,  and  in  the  shadow  of  death.  From 
the  Irish  monasteries,  in  the  sixth  and  seventh  centuries, 
began  the  first  gi'eat  Exodus,  or  Exile  from  Ireland,  which 
I  call  the  Exodus,  or  going  forth,  of  Faith.  Kevelling  in  all 
the  beauty  of  her  grandeur,  enjoying  the  blessings  of  peace, 
the  light  df  Divine  truth,  the  warmth  of  holy  chaiity,  enjoy- 
ing that  learning,  until  she  became  the  great  school-house  and 
university  of  the  world, — all  the  nations  around  sent  their 
youth  to  Ireland  to  b§  instructed.  Then,  these  Irish  and 
saintly  masters  of  all  human  and  divine  knowledge  found, 
by  the  accounts  given  by  those  youthful  scholars,  that  there 
was  neither  religion,  nor  faith,  nor  learning  in  the  countries 
around  them.  England,  now  in  the  possession  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxons,  was  still  in  Paganism.  The  ancient  Britons  (now- 
called  the  Welsh)  had  their  Christianily ;  but  they  kept  it 


THE  ''EXILES  OF  ERIN:'  %^ 

to  themselves.  In  their  hatred  to  their  Saxon  invaders, 
these.  British  bishops,  priests  and  monks  took  the  most  cruel 
form  of  vengeance  that  ever  was  known  to  be  exercised 
against  a  nation.  They  actually*  refused  to  preach  the  Gos- 
pel to  the  Saxons,  for  fear  the  Saxons  might  be  saved,  and 
get  into  Heaven  with  themselves.  Ireland,  evangelized; 
Ireland,  enlightened  ;  Ireland,  warmed  with  the  rays  of  Di- 
Aine  chaiity, — cast  a  pitying  look  upon  the  neighbor  coun- 
try ;  and  in  the  sixth  and  seventh  centuries,  numbers  of 
Irish  monks  went  forth  and  travelled  into  Scotland  and 
through  the  land  of  England,  and  everywhere  preached  the 
Gospel  of  Christ,  spreading  from  the  north  of  England  to 
the  remote  noi*th  of  Scotland.  We  find  them  in  every  land 
of  Europe.  We  find  them,  for  instance,  in  the  valleys  of 
Switzerland,  which  was  evangelized  by  the  Irish  St.  Gall, 
whose  name  still  marks  a  town  in  that  country,  whose  name 
is  still  held  in  veneration  even  by  those  who  scarcely  know 
the  land  of  his  birth.  We  find  another  Irish  saint  of  that 
time,  Fridolene  or  Fridolind ;  he  went  through  the  length 
and  breadth  of  Europe,  until  he  was  known  to  all  men  for  the 
greatness  of  his  learning  and  the  power  of  his  preaching,  and 
for  the  wonderful  sanctity  of  his  life.  He  was  called  ^'Frido  • 
lene  the  Traveller,"  for  he  went  about  from  nation  to  nation, 
evangelizing  the  name  of  Christ.  Wp  find  Columbanus  going 
fortji  in  the  seventh  century,  penetrating  into  the. heart  of 
France,  preaching  the  Gospel  to  the  people  of  Burgundy ; 
thence,  passing  over  the  Alps,  he  descended  into  the  plains  of 
Lombardy.  In  that  very  land  where  St.  Ambrose  and  other 
lights  of  the  Church  had  shone,  Columbanus  preached  the 
Gospel,  and  appeared  as  a  new  vision  of  sanctity  and  good- 
ness before  the  Italian  people,  who  were  converted  by  the 
sound  of  his  voice.  At  the  same  time  St.  Killian  pene- 
trated into  Germany,  and  evangelized  Franconia.  But  the 
greatest  of  all  these  saints  and  Irish  exiles  of  the  seventh  cen- 
tury was  the  man  whose  name  is  familiar  to  you  all — whose 
name  is  enshrined  amongst  the%very  highest  saints  of  the 
Church's  calendar, — whose  name  and  whose  history  have 
furnished  the  material  for  the  Count  Montalembert,  the  great- 
est writer  of  our  age,  who  found  in  the  name  of  the  Irish 
St.  Columba,  or  Golumbkille,  the  theme  for  the  very  high- 
est and  grandest  piece  of  history  that  our  age  has  produced. 
The  history  of  this  saint  is   striking  for  his  extraordinary 


66 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISE. 


sanctity,  and  yet  brings  out  fully,  forcibly,  and  wonderfully 
the  strength  as  well  as  the  weakness  of  the  Irish  character. 
St.  Columbkille  was  a  descendant  of  Nial  of  the  Nine  Host- 
ages, who  founded,  in  Ulster,  the  royal  house  of  O'Neil.  His 
name  was  O'Neil,  and  he  was  a  near  relation  to  the  King 
of  Ulster.  He  consecrated  himself  to  God  in  his  youth, 
and  became  a  monk.  Speedily  he  arose  in  the  fame  of  his 
learning  and  his  sanctity.  Ho  studied  in  Armagh ;  in 
Mungret,  near  Limerick,  on  the  Shannon  ;  and  went  at  last 
to  the  island  of  Arran,  outside  Gal  way  Bay ;  and  there,  as 
he  himself  tells  us,  he  passed  years  of  his  life  in  prayer  and 
study.  Well,  as  you  are  aware,  at  this  early  period  there 
were  but  few  books,  because  there  was  no  art  of  printing : 
and  every  book  had  to  be  written  out  patiently  in  manu- 
script. Books  were  then  of  such  value  that  the  price  of  a 
copy  of  the  Scriptures  would  purchase  a  large  estate.  At 
this  time  a  celebrated  Irish  saint, — St.  Finnian, — had  a 
precious  copy  of  the  Book  of  Psalms,  written  out  in  goodly 
characters  upon  leaves  of  parchment.  St.  Columbkille  wanted 
a  copy  of  this  book  for  liimself ;  and  he  went  to  St.  Finnian 
and  begged  the  privilege  of  the  book  to  take  a  copy  of  it. 
He  was  refused :  the  book  was  too  precious  to  be  trusted  to 
him.  Then  he  asked  at  least  to  be  allowed  to  go  into  the 
church  where  the  book  jv^as  deposited :  and  there  he  spent 
night  after  night,  privately  writing  out  a  clean  copy  of  it. 
By  the  time  St.  Columbkille  had  finished  his  copy,  some- 
body, who  had  watched  him  at  the  work,  went  and  told  St. 
Finnian  that  the  young  man  had  made  a  copy  of  his  psalter. 
The  moment  St.  Finnian  heard  of  it,  he  laid  claim  to  this 
copy  as  belonging  to  him.  St.  Columbkille  refused  to  give 
it  up ;  and  appealed  to  King  Dermott,  the  Ard-righ,  at 
Tara.  The  King  called  his  counsellors  together  ;  they  con- 
sidered the  matter,  and  passed  a  decree  that  St.  Columbkille 
should  give  up  the  copy ;  becau'se,  the  original  belonging  to 
St.  Finnian,  the  copy  was  only  borrowed  from  it,  and  should 
go  with  it;  and  the  Irish  decree  began  vith  the  words, 
"  Every  cow  has  a  right  to  her  own  calf."  Now,  mark  the 
action  of  Columbkille ; — a  saint, — a  man  devoted  to  prayer 
and  fasting  all  the  days  of  his  life; — a  man  gifted  with 
miraculous  powers ;  and  yet  under  all  that,  as  thorough- 
bred an  Irishman  as  ever  lived.  The  moment  he  heard  that 
the  King  had  resolved  on  giving  back  his  precious  book,  he 


THE '' EXILES  OF  ERm,''  67 

reproached  him,  saying :    "  I  am  a  cousin  of  yours ;  and 
there  you  went  against  me ! "     He  put  the  clanship — the 
"  sheanachus " — upon   him.     The   King  said  he  could  not 
help  it.     Wliat  did  St.  Columbkille  do  ?     He  took  his  book 
under  Ms  arm  and  went  away  to  Ulster  to  raise  the  clan  of 
the  O'Neils.     He  was  himself  the  son  of  their  King ;  they 
were  a  powerful  clan  in  the  country ;  and  the  moment  they 
heard  their  kinsman's  voice  they  rose  as  one  man ;  for  who 
ever  asked  a  lot  of  Irishmen  to   get  up  a  row   and  was 
disappointed.      They  arose :   they   followed   their  glorious, 
heroic  monk  down   into  Westmeath.     There   they  met  the 
King  and  his  army ;  and,  I  regret  to  say,  a  battle  was  the 
consequence,  in  which  hundreds  of  men  were  slain,  and  the 
fair  plains  of  the  country  were  flooded  with  blood.     It  was 
only  then  that  St.  Colimibkille  perceived  the  terrible  mis- 
take he  had  made.     Like  an  Irishman,  he  first  had  the  fight 
out,  and  then  he  began  to  reflect  on  it  afterwards.     In  pen- 
ance for  that  great  crime,  his  confessor,  a  holy  nionk  named 
Manuel,  condemned  him  to  go  out  of  Ireland  and  exile  him- 
self, and  never  again  to  return  to  the  land  of  his  birth  and 
of  his  love.     Nothing  is  more  beautiful  or  more  tender  than 
the  letter  St.  Columbkille  wrote  to  his  kinsmen  in  Ulster. 
"  My  fate  is  sealed,"  he  says;  "  my  doom  is  sealed.     A  man 
told  me  that  I  must  exile  myself  from  Ireland ;  and  that 
man  I  recognize  as   an  angel    of   God;  and  I  must  go." 
With  breaking  heart  and  weeping  eyes  he  bade  a  last  fare- 
well to  the  green  "  Island  of  Saints  "  and  went  to  an  island 
among  the  Hebrides,  on  the  nprthem   coast   of  Scotland. 
There  in  the  mist  and  storms  of  that  inhospitable  region, — 
there,,  upon  a  bare  rock,  out  from  the  mainland, — he  built 
a  monastery ;  and  there  did  he  found  the  far-famed  school 
of  lona.     That  school,  founded  under  the  eyes,  and  under 
the  influence  of  St-.  Columbkille,  became  the  great  mother 
and  fountain-head  of  that  grand  monasticism   which   was 
destined  to  evangelize  so  many  nations,  and  to  Christianize 
all  Scotland  and  the  northern  parts  of  England.     We  shall 
return  to  St.  Columbkille  again,  in  the  course  of  this  lecture, 
when  I  come  to  gather  up  the  three  great  periods  of  exile, 
in  speaking  of  the  one  love  which  characterized  them  all. 

The  next  century  following,  the  Irish  monk,  St.  Cataldus, 
penetrated  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  Italy,  preaching 
everywhere :  until  at  length  the  Pope  of  Rome  made  him 


68  IRELAND  Aim  THE  IRISH, 

Bishop  of  Sarento  in  the  south  of  Italy.  Another  Irish 
monk,  Romauld,  went  out  in  the  eighth  century  and  evan- 
gelized Brabant  and  the  Low  Countries.  Two  Irish  monks, 
Clement  and  Albinus,  were  so  celebrated  throughout  the 
schools  of  Europe  in  the  eighth  century,  that  they  were 
known  by  the  name  of  the  *'  Disseminators  of  Wisdom,"  or 
the  "  Philosophers."  In  a  word,  the  Irish  monks  of  the 
seventh  and  eighth  and  ninth  centuries  were  the  greatest 
apostles,  and  the  most  learned  men  that  the  world  then  pos- 
sessed. They  gave  to  their  island  home  the  strange  title 
amongst  the  nations  of  the  -"  Island  of  Saints  ;  " — and  the 
sanctity  that  made  Ireland  the  bright  glory  of  Christendom, 
they  poured  abroad  upon  their  apostolic  labors,  until  they 
brought  that  message  which  sanctified  Ireland,  home  to  every 
people  in  the  known  world. 

For  two  hundred  years  after  Ireland's  Catholicity  was 
preached  to  her  by  St.  Patrick,  no  Catholic  missionary  was 
ever  heard  to  preach  the  pame  of  Christ  to  the  Saxons  of 
England.  St.  Patrick  came  to  Ireland  in  the  year  432.  St. 
Augustine  came  to  England,  for  the  first  time,  to  preach  to 
the  Saxons,  in  the  year  696.  Nearly  two  hundred  years  in- 
tervened ;  during  which  time  St.  Columbkille  and  his  chil- 
dren had  evangelized  the  Scots  and  Picts  of  the  North  ;  and 
when  the  Roman  Monk,  St.  Augustine,  and  his  Benedictines 
came,  they  landed  in  the  south  of  England.  England  was 
then  divided  into  seven  kingdoms,  under  the  Saxons :  and 
thirty-six  years  after  the  death  of  St.  Augustine,  we  find 
that  the  Benedictine  Monks,  who  came  from  Rome,  had 
only  preached  to  one  nation  out  of  the  seven, — what  is  now 
the  county  of  Kent ; — whilst  the  Irish  Monks  had  evangel- 
ized and  preached  the  Gospel  to  all  of  the  other  kingdoms  of 
the  Saxon  Heptarchy.  Therefore  I  claim  that  from  Ireland, 
and  Ireland's  monasticism,  many  of  the  nations  of  Europe, 
more  especially  the  Scots  and  the  Kingdom  of  Northum- 
bria  (comprising  all  England  north  of  the  H umber),  lit  their 
lamps,  and  enteried  into  the  glorious  light  of  Christ.  Then 
the  light  that  was  in  Ireland  shone  forth  from  her.  As 
when  the  clouds  part  and  allow  the  strong  rays  of  the  noon- 
day sun  to  flood  the  darkened  world,  filling  it  with  light  and. 
joy  and  worship :  so  the  clouds  of  ignorance  and  Paganism 
parted ;  and  forth  from  the  pure,  ardent  Jight  of  Ireland's 
Catholicity  came  the  faith  which  illumined,  and  brightened, 


THE  "  EXILES  OF  ERm.**  69 

and  evangelized,  and  saved  all  the   surrounding  countries, 
during  that  first  great  exodus  of  Ireland's  faith. 

Is  there  anything  in  all  this  to  be  ashamed  of?  There 
are  nations  in  the  world  that  must  go  up  to  the  fountain- 
head  of  their  history,  and  touch,  not  heroes,  not  saints,  but 
robbers  and  the  vilest  men  of  the  earth.  It  is  worthy  of 
remark,  that  nearly  every  nation,  when  it  goes  up  to  the 
fountain-head  of  its  history,  has  to  be  very  quiet  and  very 
huBcjble,  indeed.  The  Romans,  for  instance,  who  conquered 
the  whole  world, — when  they  trace  their  history  to  its  foun- 
tain-head,— come  to  a  day  when  the  foundations  of  Kome 
were  laid  by  Romulus  and  Remus ;  and  we  find  that  the 
first  inhabitants  of  Rome  were  the  banditti  and  robbers  who 
escaped  from  the  neighboring  cities,  and  came  for  refuge 
into  Rome;  the  ofiscourings  of  Tuscany,  and  Latium,  and 
aU  the  surrounding  countries.  "We  find  that, — when  it  was 
a  question  of  propagating  the  Roman  people, — the  very  first 
thing  these  robbers  did  was-  an  act  worthy  of  them :  they 
rushed  out  and,  by  force  and  violence,  took  the  wives  and 
daughters  of  their  peaceable  neighbors.  We  find  that  Rom- 
ulus, the  founder  of  Rome,  with  his  own  hand,  shed  his 
brother's  blood,  as  Cain  did  that  of  Abel.  As  it  was  in  the 
first  days  of  Roman  history,  so  it  is  with  nearly  every  na- 
tion. Wliat  is  English  history  ?  It  takes  us  back  to  the 
time  when  troops  of  h^f-naked  barbarians  roamed  over  the 
hills  and  valleys.  Then  came  the  Saxon,  to  take  every  lib- 
erty from  them ;  to  rob  the  ancient  Briton  of  his  country, 
of  his  land  and  his  freedom.  What  is  this  but  the  fountain- 
head  of  history  traced  up  to  its  barbarism  and  injustice? 
But  trace  up  the  far  more  ancient  history  of  Ireland.  No 
man, — even  the  noblest  of  all  on  the  earth, — can  point  to 
such  an  ancestry  as  ours.  Trace. up  that  history  to  the  days 
when  the  Druids  stood  in  Tara;  when  the  crowned  Mon- 
arch on  the  throne,  with  the  Brehons,  sat  to  administer 
justice,  and  listen  to  the  glories  of  their  song.  Trace  it  up 
to  the  very  fountain-head,  and  you  will  find  civilization  and 
law,  and  power,  and  virtue,  and  glory.  Come  down  but  a 
day  from  out  those  Pagan  recesses  of  our  earliest  history, — 
come  down  but  a  day  on  the  road  of  time,  and  you  step  into 
the  full  light  of  Ireland's  Christian  holiness  and  glory,  when 
she  was  the  light  of  the  world  and  the  glory  of  the  Church 
of  Christ. 


70 


IRELAND  ANJD  THE  IRISH. 


Now,  my  friends^  we  pass  to  the  second   exodus;    and 
here,  alas  !  it  is  not  the  voluntary  exile  going  forth  from  his 
native  land,  reluctantly  and  regretfully,  yet  impelled  by  the 
high  and  celestial  motives  that  animate  the  heart  of  the 
Apostle  and  the  missionary  ;  it  is  not  the  saint  looking  back 
with  tearful    eyes  upon  the  land  which  he   sacrifices   and 
abandons  for  the  possession  of  higher  aims, — the  souls  of 
men  on  earth  and  the  higher  place  in  Heaven.     No :  the 
second  exodus  in  Ireland  was  one  of  the  most  terrible  in  her 
history.     We  know  that,  from  the  days  when  the  English 
invasion  took  shape  and  form, — we  know  that,  in  proportion 
as  the  English  got  firm  hold  of  the  land, — in  proportion  as 
they  divided  and  consequently  defeated  chieftain  after  chief- 
tain, king  after  king, — that  in  proportion  as  they  encroached 
upon  the  Irish  soil,  there  was,  at  last,  no  room  upon  that 
soil  for  a  man  who  loved  his  native  land.     And  this,  my 
friends,  is  one   of  the  worst  consequences  of  national  con- 
quest; this  is  one  of  the  most  terrible  consequences  of  a 
nation  being  subdued  and  enslaved.     For  the  moment  the 
foreigner  or  the  invader  sets  his  foot  firmly  on  the  soil,  that 
moment  one  of  the  highest  aims  and  virtues, — namely,  the 
virtue  of  patriotism — becomes  treason  and  a  crime.     But 
yesterday,  the  people  of  Alsace  and  Lorraine  gloried  in  the 
name  and  in  the  glory  of  their  beloved  France,     To-day,  if 
the  man  of  Alsace  or  LoiTaine  only  lifts  his  hat  to  the  statue 
of  France,  or  says  in  public,  "  Long  live  ancient  and  glorious 
France,"  he  is  taken  and  put  into  prison,  tried  as  a  malefactor, 
and  arraigned  as  a  traitor  before  the  tiibunals  of  the  country. 
And  why  ?     Because  the  curse  of  a  foreign  invasion  and  an 
unjust  occupation  is  on  the  land.     If  Germany,  instead  of 
being  the   conqueror,   were    the   conquered   land,  and   the 
French  unjustly  and  wickedly  took  possession  of  the  prov- 
inces within  the  Empire,  then  the  German  would  not  be  able 
to  love  his  native  land,  or  to  express  the  emotions  of  his 
heart  without  treason.     So  it  is  in  Ireland ;  patriotism  be- 
came a  crime  in  proportion  as  the  English  power  advanced ; 
and  the  words  of  the  poet  are  unfortunately  verified : 


*'  Unprized  are  her  sons  'till  they've  learned  to  betray, 

Undistm^iished  they  live,  if  they  shame  not  their  sires ; 
And  the  torch  that  would  light  them  to  dignity's  way 
Must  be  caught  from  the  pile  where  their  country  expires." 


THE  ''EXILES  OF  EBIN."*  71 

What  wonder,  then,  that  we  fyid.  a  people,  naturally  war- 
like, naturally  high-spirited,  a  people  whose  spirit  was  never 
crushed,  nor  never  knew  how  to  bend,  even  under  centuries 
of  oppression  and  persecution — never;  "the  spirit  of  Ire- 
land," said  Moore : 


(( 


May  be  broken,  but  never  would  bend ;  " 


What  wonder,  I  say,  that  this  people,  this  warlike  popu- 
lation, with  its  high-minded,  time-honored  nobility,  when 
they  found  that  they  could  not  love  their  country  at  home, 
where  there  were  interminable  and  everlasting  battles, — 
what  wonder  that  they  turned  their  faces  to  other  lands, 
and  sought  elsewhere  the  distinction  and  military  glory 
which  their  nationality  and  religion  deprived  them  of  in 
their  native  land.  So,  we  find  that,  as  early  as  Elizabeth's 
time,  and  even  in  that  of  Henry  VIII.,  Irishmen  had  begun 
to  emigrate  ;  and  the  armies  of  Spain,  and  Austria,  and 
France  were  glad  to  receive  them ;  for  well  they  knew,  that 
wherever  the  Irish- soldier  stood  in  the  post  of  danger,  that 
post  was  secure  until  the  enemy  walked  over  the  corpses  of 
those  who  defended  it.        .  .  • 

Amongst  many  other  risings,  Ireland  rose  almost  to  a 
man  in  the  year  1641.  The  "Confederation  of  Kilkenny  " 
was  formed ;  and  the  Catholics  of  Ireland,  unable  to  bear 
longer  the  cruel,  heartless,  and  bloody  persecution K)f  Eliza- 
beth and  her  successors,  banded  together  as  one  man.  All 
the  ancient  nobility  of  Ireland ;  all  the  Catholic  chieftains, 
— the  O'Neils,  the  O'Donnells,  the  McDermotts,  in  the 
North ;  the  McCrohans  and  McCarthy  Mor,  in  the  South ; 
the  O'Heillys,  in  Cavan;  the  Clanricarde  Burkes  of  Con- 
naught  ;  the  Geraldines  of  Leinster, — in  a  word,  all  the 
Irish  chivalry  and  nobility  came  together,  and  they  formed  a 
National  Confederation  for  the  national  defence.  For  eleven 
years  this  war  was  continued.  An  Irishman  who  had  at- 
tained to  the  highest  rank  in  the  armies  of  Spain, — who  was 
the  most  distinguished,  the  grandest  soldier  of  his  age, — 
came  over, — ^leaving  his  post  at  the  head  of  the  Spanish  army, 
then  the  bravest  and  finest  in  Europe,  and  landed  on  the 
shores  of  Ireland.  He  was  the  immortal  Owen  Roe  O'Neill. 
He  rallied  the  Irish  forces,  and  met,  on  many  a  well-fought 
field,  the  armies  of  England.     Thanks  be  to  God !  though 


72 


IRELAND  ANI^  THE  IRISH. 


they  poisoned  him,  they  could  not  conquer  him  with  the 
sword.  Thanks  be  to  God!  there  is  one  Irishman  upon 
whose  grave  may  be  written :  "  Here  lies  a  man  who  never 
drew  the  sword  for  Ireland  on  the  battle-field  without  scat- 
tering his  enemies  like  chaff  before  the  wind."  He  met,  at 
Benburb,  on  the  banks  of  the  Boyne,  the  English  general 
Monroe,  with  a  large  and  well-disciplined  army.  O'Neill 
formed  his  men  into  one  solid  column,  flanking  them  with 
his  artillery,  and,  giving  the  word  to  advance,  straight  to  the 
very  heart  of  the  English  army  he  pierced,  like  an  irresisti- 
ble wedge.  The  columns  of  the  English  army  swarmed  upon 
every  side;  from  every  quarter  they  came.  Still  on  the 
Irish  went,  until  they  gained  the  brow  of  Benburb  Hill ; 
nor  was  all  the  chivalry  of  England  able  to  stand  against 
them.  When  they  gained  the  brow  of  the  hill,  O'Neil,  on 
looking  around,  could  see  the  enemy  flying  on  every  side,  as 
from  the  avenging  angel  of  God. 

At  another  battle,  at  the  "Yellow  Ford,"  another  of  the 
same  clan,  the  renowned  Hugh  O'Neil,  a  few  years  before,  had 
met  the  English  Field-Marshal  Bagenal,  at  the  head  of  a 
large  army.  He  not  only  routed  him,  but  exterminated  his 
army,  and  scarcely  left  a  man  to  go  home  to  their  strong- 
holds around  Dublin,  to  tell,  with  blanched  lips,  the  tale  that 
they  had  been  destroyed  by  the  Irish. 

Cromwell  landed  in  Ireland ;  and  Owen  Roe  O'Neill,  at 
the  head*  of  his  army,  advanced  from  the  North  to  measure 
swords  with  the  Roundheads  of  England.  Ah  !  well  they 
knew  the  mettle  the  man  was  made  of;  and  they  sent  a 
traitor  into  his  camp  to  put  poison,  into  the  Irishman's  wine  ! 

In  the  death  of  Owen  Roe  O'Neill,  the  great  Confedera- 
tion of  Ireland  was  broken ;  so  that,  with  divided  counsels, 
they  scarcely  knew  whom  to  obeyj  until  on  the  12th  of 
May,  1652,  eleven  years  after  the  Confederation  was  estab- 
lished. Gal  way,  the  last  stronghold  of  the  Irish,  had  to  yield. 
The  cause  was  lost — lost  again !  and  the  Irish  nobility,  and  _ 
the  rank  and  file  of  the  Irish  army,  rather  than  remain  at 
home  and  serve  as  soldiers  with  Cromwell,  went  to  France^ 
Austria,  and  Spain,  and  left  their  mark  upon  the  history  of 
Europe,  as  that  history  is  proud  to  record. 

On  October  .the  27th,  1652,  Limerick  fell.  Forty  years 
later,  Ireland  is  in  arms  again.  This  time  the  English  king 
is  at  their  head — King  James  the  Second.     I  wish  he  had 


THE  ''EXILS;^  OF  EBLN.''  73 

been  a  braver  man ;  he  would  not  then  have  deserved  the 
opprobrious  name  by  which  our  people  justly  designated 
him.  He  was  too  fond  of  taking  out  his  handkerchief,  and 
putting  it  to  his  eyes,  and  crying  out  to  the  Irish  soldiers, 
*'OhI  spare  my  English  subjects!"  And  when  the  Irish 
dragoons  were  sweeping  down  upon  Schomberg,  on  the  slopes 
of  the  Boyne ;  when  the  Irish  dragoons  would  have  driven  * 
the  Brunswickers  into  that  river,  and  the  history  of  Ireland 
would  have  taken  from  the  beautiful  Boyne  the  name  of 
reproach  it  has  to  this  day, — James  was  the  first  to  give 
the  order,  "  Stop  a  little !  don't  let  them  make  so  desperate 
a  charge !  "  Any  man  that  knows  the  history  of  his  coun- 
try knows  that,  if  we  study  the  actions  and  valor  of  the  Irish 
army  at  that  very  Boyne — at  Athlone — at  Aughrjm — al- 
though they  lost  the  field,  they  did  not  lose  their  honor ;  but 
they  crowned  their  loss  with  immortal  glory. 

At  length  the  campaign  drew  to  a  close ;  and  when  1691  came 
— forty  years  after  the  former  siege  of  Limerick — ^the  heroic 
city  was  once  more  surrounded  by  the  flower  of  the  English 
army;  while  within  its  walls  were  10,000  Irishmen,  with 
Patrick  Sarsfield,  Earl  of  Lucan,  at  their  head.  A  breach 
was  made  in  the  walls.  Three  times  the  whole  strength  of 
the  English  army  was  hurled  against  the  defenders  of  the 
walls  of  Limerick.  Three  times,  within  that  breach,  arose 
the  wild  shout  of  the  Irish  soldiers ;  and  three  times  was  the 
whole  might  of  Orange  William's  army  swept  away  from 
that  breach.  In  the  third  of  these  assaults,  combatants  ap- 
peared who  are  not  generally  seen,  either  on  the  battle-field 
or  at  the  hustings,  in  Ireland.  The  Irish  women  are  not 
what  you  call  "Women's  Right's  people."  The  women  of 
Ireland  do  not  go  in  much  for  "  women's  associations ;  "  and 
they  do  not  go  in  at  all  for  "  Free  Love ;  "  but  they  "  went 
for  "  the  English  in  that  last  assault.  The  brave,  dark-eyed 
mothers  and  daughters  of  Southern  Ireland  stood,  shoulder 
to  shoulder,  with  their  brothers  and  fathers.  In  the  breach 
they  stood ;  and,  whilst  the  men  defended  Irish  nationality, 
in  that  terrible  hour,  the  women  of  Ireland  raised  their 
hands  in  defence  of  Ireland's  purity  and  Ireland's  right. 
Well  they  might  I  for  never  had  womanhood  a  more  sacred, 
pure,  and  honorable  cause  to  defend,  than  when  the  women 
of  Limerick  opposed  the  base  and  evil-minded  invaders  of 
their  country, 

4 


74 


IBELAHTD  AND  THE  IBISff. 


Well,  Limerick  yielded.  King  William  and  his  Grenerals 
found  they  could  not  take  the  city ;  so,  they  made  terms 
with  Sarsfield  and  his  men,  to  the  effect,  that  the  Irish  army 
were  to  go  out  with  drums  beating,  colors  flying,  and  with 
arms  in  their  hands ;  free  to  stay  in  Ireland,  if  they  wished ; 
or  to  join  the  service  of  any  foreign  power  they  pleased. 
The  Treaty  of  Limerick  guaranteed  to  the  Catholics  of  Ire- 
land as  much  religious  liberty  as  they  enjoyed  under  the 
Stuarts.  That  Treaty  was  won  by  the  bravery  of  the  Irish 
soldiers  within  the  shattered  walls  of  Limerick.  The  Treaty 
of  Limerick  granted  the  Irish  merchants  the  same  privileges 
and  the  same  rights  as  the  English  merchants  had.  But,  as 
soon  as  Sarsfield  and  his  thirty  thousand  soldiers  were  gone, 
before  the  ink  was  dry  .upon  the  Treaty,  it  was  broken. 
The  Lord  Justices  that  signed  it  returned  to  Dublin ;  and  a 
certain  Dr.  Dopping — (he  was  the  Protestant  Bishop  of 
Meath) — preached  a  sermon ;  and  the  subject  of  that  sermon 
was,  on  the  sin  of  keeping  their  oaths  with  the  Catholics  I 
The  Treaty  was  broken  ere  the  ink  upon  it  was  dry ;  and 
a  period  of  confiscation  and  misery  most  terrible  followed. 

Meantime,  Sarsfield  and  his  poor  companions  took  them- 
selves to  France.  "  Exiles  of  Hope,"  they  went  in  the  ex- 
pectation that  they  would  one  day  return  with  their  brave 
French  allies,  and  sweep  the  Saxons  from  off  the  soil  of 
Erin.  By  the  time  Sarsfield  arrived  in  France  (in  1691),  there 
were  thirty  thousand  Irishmen  in  the  service  of  King  Louis. 
There  were,  at  the  same  time,  some  ten  thousand  in  the 
service  of  Spain,  and  an  equal  number  in  the  service  of 
Austria;  and  it  is  worthy  of  notice  that  the  Irishmen  of 
Leinster  and  of  Meath  joined  the  service  of  Austria,  with 
their  leaders,  the  Nugents  and  the  Kavanaghs, — names  still 
perpetuated  in  the  Austrian  army.  I  myself  knew  a  Field- 
Marshal  Nugent,  of  Irish  descent,  in  the  Austrian  army. 
The  men  of  the  North  went  to  Spain,  under  the  O'Reillys 
and  O'Donnells.  At  that  very  time  Austria  and  Spain 
jsrere  fighting  against  France.  So  that,  whilst  there  were 
thirty  thousand  Irishmen  in  the  French  army,  there  were 
nearly  twenty  thousand  in  the  other  armies.  There  were 
the  bone  and  sinew  and  blood  of  Ireland  engaged  in  the  un- 
happy work  of  slaughtering  one  another  I  Oh !  how  sad  to 
think  that  the  bravest  soldiers  that  ever  stood, — the  bravest 
in  the  world, — should  be  thus  employed,  fighting  for  causes 


THE  ''EXILED  OF  fSJ^fN:^  75 

of  which  they  kivew  nothing,  and  for  monarchs  who  cared 
nothing  about  them ;  and  the  hands  which  should  .have 
been,  joined  for  Ireland,  in  some  glorious  effort  for  Irish 
purposes,  were  actually  imbrued  in  their  brothers'  blood 
on  many  a  battle-field  in  Europe. 

Sarsfield,  shortly  after  his  arrival,  with  his  Connaught 
men  and  Mnnster  men,  took  service  with  King  Louis  of 
France.  He  first  crossed  swords  with  the  English  at  the 
siege  of  Namur,  a  town  of  Flanders.  There  he  so  behaved 
with  his  Irishmen,  and  so  thoroughly  cleared  the  field,  so 
completely 'swept  away  the  English  that  were  opposed  to 
him,  bearing  down  upon  them  when  they  first  wavered,  with 
the  awful  dash  of  Lord  Clare's  dragoons,  that  Sarsfield  was 
created  a  Marshal  of  France.  We  find  him  again  at  the 
battle  of  Landen.  He  is  at  the  head  of  the  "  Irish  Brigade ; " 
and  opposed  to  him  is  King  William,  Orange  William, 
whom  he  had  often  met  upon  many  a  field  before.  Now 
the  close  of  a  hard-fought  day  is  approaching.  The  English, 
with  their  Dutch  auxiliaries,  were  in  full  flight.  Sarsfield, 
with  his  sword  in  hand,  was  at  the  head  of  his  troops ;  when 
suddenly  a  musket  ball  struck  that  heroic  breast,  and  he  fell 
upon  the  ^eld  of  glory.  When  the  film  of  death  was  com- 
ing over  hifl  eye@,  he  placed  his  hand  unconsciously  to  the 
wound,  and  withdrawing  it,  covered  with  his  heart's  blood, 
he  cried — "  Oh  God !  that  this  blood  were  shed  for  Ireland." 

The  fortunes  of  the  French  were  now  in  the  ascendant, 
from  the  years  1691  to  1696.  Then  the  powerful  Duke  bf 
Marlborough  arose,  with  Prince  Eugene,  at  the  head  of  the 
English  and  Austrian  armies ;  and  France  began  to  suffer 
reverses.  The  star  of  France  began  to  go  down.  Marl- 
borough conquered  on  many  a  glorious  field,  and  with  the 
English  soldiers  drove  the  French  before  him,  at  Malpla- 
quet,  at  Oudenard,  at  Kamillies,  and  other  places^  But  it 
is  a  singular  thing,  which  history  records,  that,  in  every  one 
of  these  battles,  in  which  the  French  were  defeated,  the 
English,  often  in  the  hour  ^f  their  victory,  had  to  fly  before 
the  "  Irish  Brigade."     So  the  poet  says : 

<^  When,  on  BamiUies'  bloody  field, 
The  baffled  French  were  forced  to  yield, 
The  victor  Saxons  backward  reeled 
^fofC9  tiie  charge  of  Clare's  Dra^^na." 


76 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IBISH. 


Yes,  the  French  amiy,  on  that  day,  were  routed ;  but 
there  was  one  division  of  that  army  that  retired  from 
the  field  victorious,  and  with  the  English  standards  which 
they  had  captured  in  their  hands.  And  this  was  the  "  Irish 
Brigade." 

Years  followed  years,  but  the  strength  of  the  exiles  was 
still  kept  up  by  the  hope  that  they  would  one  day  return  to , 
Ireland,  and  strike  a  blow  for  their  dear  old  land.  Years 
followed  years.  Sarsfield  was  in  his  grave  more  than  forty 
years.  France  was  still  playing  a  losing  game,  in  the  "  War 
of  the  Spanish  Succession."  Marshal  Saxe  arose,  and,  with 
King  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  laid  siege  to  Tournay,  in  Flan- 
ders. He  had  75,000  men  under  his  command.  Whilst  he 
was  still  besieging  the  city,  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  the  son 
of  George  the  Second, — one  of  the  most  awful  wretches  that 
ever  cursed  the  face  of  the  earth  with  his  presence ;  a  man 
whose  heart  knew  no  pity ;  the  man  who  mowed  down  the 
poor  Highlanders  at  Culloden ;  the  man  whose  heart  knew 
no  love,  whose  passions  knew  no  restraint,  whose  name  to 
this  day  is  spoken  by  every  Englishman  in  a  whisper,  as  if 
he  was  ashamed  of  it; — he  commanded  55,000  men,  mostly 
English,  with  some  Dutch  auxiliaries ;  and  he  marched  at 
the  head  of  this  tremendous  army  to  raise  the  siege  of  Tour- 
nay.  When  the  French  King  heard  of  the  approach  of  the 
English,  he  took  45,000  men  from  the  siege,  and  leaving 
18,000  to  continue  it,  went  on  with  the  rest,  including  the 
"  Irish  Brigade,"  to  meet  the  Duke  of  Cumberland.  They 
met  him  on  the  slopes  of  Fontenoy.  The  French  General, 
— Saxe, — ^took  his  position  upon  the  village  of  Fontenoy.  It 
was  on  the  crowning  slope  of  this  hill,  which  extended  on 
every  side,  he  stretched  his  line,  on  one  side,  to  the  village 
called  St.  Antoine,  on  the  other  side,  through  a  wood  called 
De  Barri's  wood ;  and  there  entrenched,  and  strongly  estab- 
lished, he  waited  his  English  foe.  Cumberland  arrived  at 
the  head  of  his  English  army,  and  the  whole  day  long  as- 
saulted the  French  position,  innrain.  He  sent  his  Dutch- 
men to  attack  St.  Antoine ;  twice  they  attacked  the  village, 
and  the  lines, — and  twice  were  they  driven  back  with 
slaughter.  Three  times  the  English  themselves  advanced  to 
the  village  of  Fontenoy ;  three  times  were  they  driven  back 
by  the  French.  They  tried  to  penetrate  into  De  Barri's 
wood,  on  the  leffc,  but  the  French  artillery  were  massed 


THE  ''EXILES  OF  ERIN.''  77 

within ;  and  again  and  again  were  they  driven  back ;  until, 
when  the  evening  was  coming,  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  see- 
ing the  day  was  going  against  him,  assembled  all  the  veteran 
and  tried  soldiers  of  his  army,  and  formed  a  massive  column 
of  6,000  men,  six  pieces  of  cannon  in  front  of  them,  and 
six  on  either  side  of  them.  They  were  placed  under  com- 
mand of  Lord  John  Hay ;  and  he  adopted  the  same  tactics 
which  Owen  Roe  O'Neill  adopted  at  Benburb.  Forming  the 
six  thousand  men  in  a  §plid  column,  he  gave  them  orders  to 
march  right  through  the  village  of  Fontenoy ; — right  through 
the  centre  of  the  French, — until  they  got  into  their  rear, — 
and  then  to  turn  and  sweep  them  off  the  field.  The  word 
was  given  to  march ;  and  this  I  will  say, — Irishman  as  I  am 
to  the  heart's  core, — I  have  read  as  much  of  the  world's 
history  as  the  majority  of  men ;  and  I  must  say  that  never 
in  the  annals  of  history  have  I  read  of  anything  more  glori- 
ous than  the  heroism  of  these  six  thousand  Englishmen  that 
day.  The  French  closed  in  around  them ;  they  battered  the 
head  of  the  column  with  cannon ;  but  that  column  marched 
on  like  a  wall  of  iron.  These  Englishmen  marched  through 
the  French  lines ;  their  men  fell  on  every  side ;  but  as  soon 
as  a  man  fell,  another  stepped  into  his  place.  On  they 
marched  like  a  wall  of  iron,  penetrating  into  the  French 
lines.  In  vain  the  French  tirailleurs  himg  upon  their 
flanks;  in  vain  did  the  French  army  oppose  them;  they 
penetrated  it  like  a  wedge.  In  vain  did  the  King's  House- 
hold Cavalry  charge  upon  them ;  they  were  scattered  by  the 
English  fire ;  until  at  length  King  Louis  (taught  in  the  school 
of  misfortune,)  turned  his  rein  to  fly.  Marshal  Saxe  stopped 
him.  "  Not  yet,  my  liege,"  he  said.  "  Come  up.  Lord  Clare, 
with  your  Irish.  Clear  the  way !  "  Oh !  to  hear  the  wild 
cheer  with  which  the  "  Irish  Brigade  "  rushed  into  the  fight 
that  day !  This  glorious  victory  is  thus  recorded  by  one  of 
Ireland's  greatest  poets,  the  illustrious  and  immoi*tal  Thomas 
Davis : — 

*'  Thrice,  at  the  huts  of  Fontenoy,  the  English  column  failed, 
And,  twice,  the  lines  of  Saint  Antoine,  the  Dutch  in  vain  assailed ; 
For  town  and  slope  were  filled  with  fort  and  flanking  battery, 
And  well  they  swept  the  English  ranks,  and  Dutch  auxiliary. 
As  vainly,  through  De  Barri's  wood,  the  British  soldiers  burst. 
The  French  artUleiy  drove  them  back,  diminished  and  dispersed. 


78 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IBISII. 


The  bloody  Duke  of  Cumberland  boheld  with  aaiidons  eye, 
And  ordered  up  hia  last  reserve  his  latest  chance  to  try ; 
On  Fontenoy,  on  Fontenoy,  how  fast  his  generals  ride  ! 
WhUe  mustering  come  his  chosen  troops,  like  clouds  at  eventide. 

''  Six  thousand  English  veterans  in  stately  column  tread. 
Their  cannon  blaze  in  front  and  flank  ;  Lord  Hay  is  at  their  head  ; 
Steady  they  step  adown  the  slope — steady  they  cUmb  the  hill ; 
Steady  they  load — steady  they  fire,  moving  right  onward  still) 
Betwixt  the  wood  and  Fontenoy,  as  through  a  furnace  blast. 
Through  rampart,  trench,  and  pallisade,  and  bullets  showering  fast ; 
And  on  the  open  plain  above  they  rose,  and  kept  their  course. 
With  ready  fire  and  grim  resolve  that  mocked  at  hostile  force  : 
Past  Fontenoy,  past  Fontenoy, — while  thinner  grow  their  ranks,— ^ 
They  break,  as  breaks  the  Zuyder  Zee  through  Holland's  ocean 
banks. 


"  More  idly  than  the  Summer  flies,  French  tirailleurs  rush  round ; 
Like  stubble  to  the  lava  tide,  French  squadrons  strew  the  ground ; 
Bomb-sheU,  and  grape,  and  round-shot  tore  ;  still  on  they  marched 

and  fired — 
Fast,  from  each  volley,  grenadier  and  voltigeur  retired. 
*  Push  on,  my  household  cavalry  ! '  King  Louis  madly  cried. 
To  death  they  rush;   yet  rude  their  shock — not  unavenged  they 

died. 
On  through  the  camp  the  column  trod  ; — King  Louis  turns  his  rein : 
'  Not  yet,  my  liege,'  Saxe  interposed,  *  the  Lcish  troops  remain.* 
And  Fontenoy,  famed  Fontenoy,  had  been  a  Waterloo, 
Were  not  these  exiles  ready  then,  fresh,  vehement,  and  true. 

"*  Lord  Clare,'  he  says,  'you  have  your  wish; — there  ar6  your 
Saxon  foes ! ' 

The  Marshal  almost  smiles  to  see,  so  furiously  he  goes. 

How  fierce  the  look  these  exiles  wear,  who're  wont  to  be  so  gay. 

The  treasured  wrongs  of  fifty  years  are  in  their  hearts  to-day  ; — 

The  treaty  broken,  ere  the  ink  wherewith  '<twas  wtit  could  dry ; 

Their  plundered  homes,  their  ruined  shrines,  theit  women's  parting 
cry; 

Their  priesthood  hunted  down  like  wolves;  their  country  over- 
thrown;— 

Each  looks,  as  if  revenge  for  aU  were  staked  on  him  alone. 


THE  ''EXILES  OF  ERIN."  79 

♦ 

On  Fontenoy,  an.  Fontenoy,  nor  never  yet  elsewhere, 

Bashed  on  to  fight  a  nobler  band  than  those  proud  exiles  were. 

*'  O'Brien's  voice  is  hoarse  with  joy,  as,  halting,  he  commands : — 
'  Fix  bay'nets  ! — Charge  I ' — Like  mountain  storm  rush  on   these 

fiezy  bands  I 
Thin  is  the  English  column  now,  and  faint  their  volleys  grow ; 
Yet,  must'ring  all  the  strength  they  have,  they  make  a  gallant 

show. 
They  dress  their  ranks  upon  the  hill  to  face  that  battle  wind — 
Their  bayonets  the  breakers'  foam ;  like  rocks,  the  men  behind. 
One  volley  crashes  from  their   line;   when,  through  the  surging 

smoke, 
With  empty  guns  clutched  in  their  hands,  the  headlong  Irish  broke. 
On  Fontenoy,  on  Fontenoy,  hark  to  that  fierce  huzza  ! 
*  Bevenge  I  remember  Limerick  1  dash  down  the  Sassenach ! ' 

'*  Like  Hens  leaping  at  a  fold,  when  mad  with  hunger's  pang, 

Bight  up  against  the  English  lines  the  Irish  exiles  sprang ; 

Bright  was  their  steel ;  'tis  bloody  now ;  their  guns  are  filled  with 
gore ; 

Through  shattered  ranks,  and  severed  files,  and  trampled  flags  they 
tore. 

The  English  strove  with  deq>erate  strength ;  paused,  rallied,  stag- 
gered, fled. 

The  green  hill-side  is  matted  (dose  with  dying  and  with  dead. 

Across  the  plain  and  far  away  passed  on  that  hideous  wrack, 

While  cavalier  and  f  antassin  dash  in  upon  their  track. 

On  Fontenoy,  on  Fontenoy,  like  eagles  in  the  sun  ! 

With  bloody  plumes  the  Irish  stand ; — ^the  field  is  fought  and  won ! " 

So  they  fought,  serving  in  France,  in  Spain,  and  in  Aus- 
tria; but  the  hope  that  kept  them  up  was  never  realized. 
The  French  Revolution  came  and  the  "  Irish  Brigade  "  was 
dissolved.  That  French  Revolution  opened  the  way  for  the 
third  exodus  from  Ireland.  The  Irish  got  a  ray  of  hope  when 
the  wild  cry  of  freedom  resounded  on  the  battle-fields  of 
Europe.  The  fever  of  the  French  Revolution  spread  to 
Ireland  and  created  the  insurrection  of  '98.  But  the  insur- 
rection and  the  men  of  '98  were  extinguished  in  blood. 
Bravely  they  fought  and  well ;  and  had  Sajrsfield  himself,  or 


80 


ntELANB  AND  THE  IRISH, 


the  heroic  Lord  Clare,  been  at  New  Koss,  or  at  the  foot  of 
Tara's  hill,  on  the  banks  of  the  Boyne,  when  the  ninety 
Wexford  men  fought  a  regiment  of  British  dragoons,  they 
would  not  have  been  ashaiped  of  their  countrymen. 

The  year  1800  saw  Ireland  deprived  of  her  Parliament; 
and  from  that  day  every  honest  Irishman  who  loved  his 
country  had  an  additional  argument  to  turn  his  eyes  to 
some  other  land.  The  making  of  our  laws  was  passed  over 
to  the  English.  They  knew  nothing  about  us ;  they  had  no 
regard  for  us ;  they  wished,  as  their  acts  proved,  to  destroy 
the  industry  of  Ireland ;  and  some  of  the  very  first  acts  of 
the  united  Parliament,  when  it  was  transferred  to  England, 
were  for  the  destruction  of  the  commerce  and  trade  of  Ire- 
land. Some  of  the  first  things  they  did  were  to  repeal  the 
acts  of  the  glorious  epoch  of  1782,  when  the  "Irish  Volun- 
teers," -with  arms  in  their  hands,  were  able  to  exact  justice 
from  the  Government  of  England. 

But,  now,  Ireland  turned  with  wistful  eyes  ;  and  from  her 
western  slopes  she  looked  across  the  ocean.  Far  away  in  the 
west,  she  beheld  a  mighty  country  springing  up,  where  the 
exile  might  find  a  home,  where  freemen  might  find  air  to 
breathe,  and  where  the  lover  of  his  country  might  find  a 
country  worthy  of  his  love.  We  may  say  that  the  emigra- 
tion to  America  took  shape  and  form  from  the  day  Ireland 
lost  her  legislative  independence  by  the  transfer  of  her  par- 
liament to  England  ;  for,  next  to  the  privilege  of  loving  his 
country,  the  dearest  privilege  any  man  can  have  is  that  of 
having  a  voice  in  the  government  and  the  making  of  his  own 
laws.  By  the  Act  of  Union,  a  debased,  corrupted,  and 
perjured  Protestant  Irish  Parliament  declared,  in  the  face  of 
the  world,  that  Irishmen  did  not  know  how  to  make  laws 
for  themselves  ;  and  if  they  did  not,  no  man  can  blame  Cas- 
tlereagh  for  taking  them  at  their  own  word.  He  was  an 
Irishman,  and  he  took  the  legislative  assembly  from  Dub- 
lin and  transferred  it  to  London ;  but,  if  he  did,  it  was  that 
very  assembly  itself  that  voted  for  its  own  transfer  and  its 
,  own  destruction.  In  vain  did  Grattan  rise,  the  immortal 
Henry  Grattan ;  in  vain  did  he  thunder  forth  in  the  cause 
of  justice  and  of  Irish  nationality.  In  vain  did  every  bon- 
iest man  lift  up  his  voice.  The  corrupt  legislature  played 
into  the  hands  of  Pitt  and  Castlereagh.  Castlereagh  carried 
his  measure  ;  and  he  went  on  rejoicing  under  his  titles  and 


THE  "  EXILES  OF  ERIN.'"  81 

honors,  and  increasing  in  power,  and  dignity,  and  wealth ; 
until,  one  fine  morning,  he  tried  the  keen  edge  of  a  razor  on 
his  own  throat.  He  cut  his  jugular  artery,  and  inflicted  on 
himself  a  tremendous  inconvenience.  Whatever  things  he 
had  to  fear  in  this  world,  I  am  greatly  afraid  ho  did  not 
improve  his  position  by  hurrying  into  the  other.  But  what 
was  so  inconvenient  to  Castlereagh,  was  a  great  blessing  to 
Ireland,  to  England,  and  to  the  whole  world ;  for  it  is  a 
great  blessing  to  this  world  when  any  scoundrel  makes  his 
bow,  and  goes  out  of  it. 

Well,  my  friends,  it  is  of  these  early  exiles, — the  exiles 
of  '98, — the  exiles  who  went  in  the  preceding  years,  under 
William's  persecutions, — the  exiles  who  were  banished  by 
Cromwell,  when  100,000  men,  and  among  them  two  or  three 
thousand  priests  of  my  own  Order,  were  sent  as  slaves  to 
the  ^arbadoes,  and  there  died  in  the  sugar  plantations, — it 
was  of  these  exiles  that  the  Scottish  poet,  Campbell,  wrote 
his  famous  verses  on  the  "  Exile  of  Erin."  The  lines  of 
this  famous  poem  are  of  a  time  anterior  to  our  own.  He 
speaks  of  the  Irish  exile  as  one  who  was  playing  upon  a 
harp.  Now,  up  to  about  seventy  years  ago,  the  harp  was  a 
common  instrument  in  Ireland  ;  and  the  aged  harpers  lived 
down  to  the  days  of  Carolan,  who  died  a  few  years  before 
the  troubles  of  '98  began.  We  can,  therefore,  enter  into 
the  sentiment  of  the  poet,  who  thus  describes  our  unfortu- 
nate countryman,  driven  by  force  and  oppression  from  all  . 
that  he  loved  and  cherished  on  this  earth : 


(( 


There  came  to  the  beach  a  poor  exile  of  Erin ; 

The  dew  on  his  thin  robe  was  heavy  and  chill : 
For  his  country  he  sighed,  when  at  twilight  repairing, 

To  wander  alone  by  the  wind-beaten  hill. 
But  the  day-star  attracted  his  eye's  sad  devotion, 
For  it  rose  o'er  his  own  native  isle  of  the  ocean, 
Where  once,  in  the  fire  of  his  youthful  emotion, 

He  sang  the  bold  anthem  of  Erin  go  bragh. 


'*  *  Oh,  sad  is  my  fate,'  said  the  heart-broken  stranger. 
The  wild-deer  and  wolf  to  a  covert  can  flee  ; 
But  I  have  no  refuge  from  famine  and  danger : 
A  home  and  a  country  remain  not  for  me ! 
4* 


82  mELAND  ASD  THE  IBI8E. 

Ah  I  never  again  in  the  green  shady  bowerSj 
Where  my  forefathers  lived,  shall  I  spend  the  sweet  hoTXiJB, 
Or  cover  my  harp  with  the  wild-woven  flowers, 
And  strike  the  sweet  numbers  of  Erin  go  bragh. 


*'  *  Oh  I  Erin,  my  conntcy  !  thongh  sad  and  forsaken, 

In  dreams  I  revisit  thy  sea-beaten  shore ; 
Bat,  alas  I  in  a  far  foreign  land  I  awaken, 

And  sigh  for  the  friends  that  can  meet  me  no  more. 
And  thou,  cruel  fate,  wilt  thou  ever  replace  me 
In  a  mansion  of  peace  where  no  peril  can  chase  me  ? 
Ah,  never  again  shall  my  brothers  embrace  me  I 

They  died  to  defend  me,  or  live  to  deplore. 

* '  *  Where  is  my  cabin-door,  fast  by  the  wild  wood  ? 

Sister  and  sire,  did  you  weep  for  its  fall  ? 
Where  is  the  mother  that  look'd  on  my  childhood  ? 

And  where  is  my  bosom-friend,  dearer  than  aU  ? 
Ah,  my  sad  heart,  long  abandoned  by  pleasure, 
Why  did  it  dote  on  a  fast-fading  treasure  I 
Tears,  like  the  raiu-drops,  miay  fall  without  measure, 

But  rapture  and  beauty  they  cannot  recall. 

*'  '  But  yet,  all  its  fond  recollections  suppressing, 
One  dying  wish  my  lone  bosom  shall  draw; 

Erin,  an  exile  bequeathes  thee  his  blessing, 
Land  of  my  forefathers,  Erin  go  bragh  1 

Buried  and  cold,  when  this  heart  stills  its  motion, 

Green  be  thy  fields,  sweetest  isle  of  the  ocean  ; 

And  thy  harp-striking  bards  sing  aloud  with  devotion, 
Erin,  mavoumeen,  Erin  go  bragh  I ' " 

As  the  first  of  these  exiles  was  that  of  faith,  that  that 
faith  might  be  disseminated  throughput  the  earth : — and  as 
the  second  emigration  was  that  of  the  warrior,  going  forth 
full  of  hope, — a  hope  that  was  never  realized, — so,  the  last 
emigration  from  Ireland  was  the  emigration  of  love.  It 
was  the  tearing  of  loving  hearts  from  all  that  they  cherished, 
all  that  they  loved  in  this  world ;  the  injustice,  and  the 
tyranny  of  the  land-possessors  of  Ireland;  the  injustice  of 
the  wicked  government  of  England,  gloating  over  the  work 


THE  ''EXILES  OF  EniN.''  83 

of  the  **  Crowbar  Brigade ;  '*  the  people  taken  from  their 
homesteads  and  flung  into  the  ditches  to  die  like  dogs ;  no 
law  protecting  them ;  no  rights  of  their  own  to  be  asserted ; 
no  rights,  save  the  right  to  suffer,  to  be  evicted  and  to  die. 
Ah !  who  amongst  us  has  ever  seen  the  parting  of  the  old 
man  from  his  sons  and  daughters ;  who  amongst  us  has  ever 
heard  the  heart-broken  cry  go  forth  when  those  loving  hearts 
were  separated ;  who  amongst  us,  that  has  seen  and  heard, 
can  ever  forget  those  things !  No :  the  youth  of  Ireland, 
the  bone  and  sinew,  fled.  Many  aged  men  and  women  re- 
mained in  the  land,  and  sat  down  upon  their  family  graves 
to  weep,  and  to  die  with  broken  hearts.  But  one  emotion, 
one  glorious  passion  ruled  the  emigrant  of  faith  of  fourteen 
hundred  years  ago,  the  emigrant  warrior  of  two  hundred 
years  ago,  and  the  emigrant  of  love  of  the  present  day ;  one 
glorious  feeling,  one  absorbing  passion ;  and  that  was,  their 
love  for  Ireland.  Hear  the  lament  of  St.  Columbkille,  one 
of  Ireland's  greatest  saints,  greatest  poets,  and  greatest  sons, 
who  banished  himself,  in  penance,  to  the  far-distant  island 
of  lona.  He  tells  us  that,  when  he  wished  to  calm  the  sor- 
row of  his  heart,  he  generally  sat  upon  the  high  rocks  of  the 
island,  and  turned  his  eyes  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  faint 
outline  of  the  shore  of  Ireland.  "  Death,"  he  exclaimed,  in 
one  of  his  poems, — "  death  in  faultless  Ireland,  is  better 
than  life  without  end  in  Albin :  " 

''  Death,  in  faultless  Ireland,  is  better  than  life  without  end  in 

Albin. 
"What  joy  to  fly  upon  the  white-crested  sea,  and  watch  the  waves 

break  upon  the  Irish  shore ! 
What  joy  to  row  in  my  little  boat,  and  land  upon  the  whitening  foam 

of  the  Irish  shore  ! 
Ah  !  how  my  boat  would  fly  if  its  prow  were  turned  to  my  Irish  oak 

groves ; 
But  the  noble  sea  now  carries  me  to  Albin,  the  land  of  the  raven. 
My  foot  is  in  my  little  boat ;  but  my  sad  heart  ever  bleeds ;  and  my 

gray  eye  ever  turns  to  Erin. 
Never,  in  this  sad  life,  shall  I  see  Erin,  or  her  sons  and  daughters 

again. 
From  the  high  prow  I  look  over  the  sea ;  great  tears  are  in  my  gray 

eyai,  as  I  torn  to  Erin ; 


84  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH, 

To  Erin  where  the  song  of  the  birds  is  so  sweet ;  where  the  monks 

sing  like  the  birds  ; 
Where  the  young  are  so  gentle,  and  the  old  so  wise  ; 
Where  the  men  axe  so  noble  to  look  at,  and  the  women  so  fair  to 

wed." 

In  another  place  he  says,  to  one  of  his  disciples,  a  noble 
youth,  returning  to  Ireland — 

"  Yornig  traveller,  take  my  heart  with  thee,  and  my  blessing ;  carry 

them  to  Comghaill  of  eternal  light. 
Carry  my  heart  to  Ireland — seven  times  may  she  be  blessed, — ^my 

body  to  Albin. 
Carry  my  blessing  across  the  sea  ;  carry  it  to  the  west     My  heart 

is  broken  in  my  bosom. 
If  death  should  come  upon  me  suddenly ;  it  will  be  because  of  my 

great  love  of  the  Gael." 

One  consolation  vouchsafed  to  him  was,  that  he  had  two 
visions  from  God.  .  He  foretold  that,  many  hundred  years 
after  his  death,  his  body  should  be  carried  back  to  Ireland, 
to  rest  forever  in  the  soil  that  he  loved.  This  prophecy  he 
himself  announced  in  these  words : — "  They  shall  bury  me 
first  at  lona;  but  by  the  will  of  the  living  God  it  is  in 
Down  that  I  shall  rest  in  my  grave,  with  Patrick  and  Brid- 
get the  immaculate, — three  bodies  in  one  grave."  And  so, 
in  the  tenth  century,  when  the  Danes  swept  over  lona,  the 
monks  took  St.  Columbkille's  venerated  body,  and  brought 
it  to  Ireland,  and  laid  it  in  the  Cathedral  in  Downpatrick, 
with  Patrick  and  Bridget ;  and  there,  as  the  old  poem  tells 
us — 

"  Three  saints  one  grave  do  fill, 
Patrick,  and  Bridget,  and  Columbkille." 

The  love  he  had  for  Ireland  was  a  spirit  common  to  all 
Irish  saints.  Whilst  they  were  crowned  with  the  highest 
dignities  of  the  church  in  foreign  lands,  still,  we  have  the 
record  in  the  history  of  St.  Aidan,  the  first  Archbishop  of 
Nortliumbria,  the  founder  of  the  famous  Lindisfame,  that 
whenever  they  wished  to  enjoy  themselves  a  little,  they  came 
together  and  celebrated  in  the  Irish  language,  with  sweetest 


TEE  ''EXILE8  OF  EBIN.''  85 

« 

verse,  to  the  sound  of  the  timbrel  and  the  harp,  the  praises 
of  their  native  land. 

Nor  less  was  the  love  which  the  brave  exiles  of  1691  bore 
to  Ireland.  We  see  that  when  the  cry  of  battle  went  forth ; 
when  with  the  shock  of  arms  they  met  upon  the  battle-field, 
never  was  the  stout  heart  of  the  Saxon  enemy  smitten  with 
fear  within  him,  until  he  heard,  ringing  forfli  in  the  Irish 
tongue,  "  Remember  Limerick,  and  dash  down  the  Sasse- 
nach !  "  And  well  they  loved  their  native  land, — these 
noble  chieftains  and  brave  soldiers  of  Ireland.  Their  love  is 
conmiemorated  in  the  poet's  verse  : — 

"  The  mess- tent  is  full,  and  the  glasses  are  set, 
And  the  gallant  Count  Thomond  is  president  yet ; 
The  veteran  arose  like  an  uplifted  lance, 
Crying — *  Comrades,  a  health  to  the  Monarch  of  France  1  * 
With  bximpers  and  cheers  they  have  done  as  he  bade, 
For  King  Louis  is  loved  by  The  Irish  Brigade. 

"  '  A  health  to  King  James,*  and  they  bent  as  they  quaffed; 

*  Here's  to  George  the  Elector ^^  and  fiercely  they  laughed ; 

*  Good  luck  to  the  girls  we  wooed  long  ago. 

Where  Shannon,  and  Barrow,  and  Blackwater  flow ;  ' 

*  God  prosper  Old  Ireland,' — you'd  think  them  afraid. 
So  pale  grew  the  chiefs  of  The  Irish  Brigade. 

« 

'*  *  But,  surely,  that  light  cannot  come  from  our  lamp  ? 
And  that  noise — are  they  all  getting  drunk  in  the  camp  I 
Hurrah  I  boys,  the  morning  of  battle  is  come  I 
And  the  generale^a  beating  on  many  a  drum. 
So  they  rush  from  the  revel  to  join  the  parade ; 
For  the  van  is  the  right  of  The  Irish  Brigade. 

"  They  fought  as  they  revelled,  fast,  fiery,  and  true; 
And,  though  victors,  they  left  on  the  field  not  a  few. 
And  they,  who  survived,  fought  and  drank  as  of  yore ; 
But  the  land  of  their  hearts'  hope  they  never  saw  more ; 
For  in  far  foreign  fields,  from  Dunkirk  to  Belgrade, 
Lie  the  soldiers  and  chiefs  of  The  Irish  Brigade." 

Nor  is  the  Irishman  of  to-day, — whether  a  voluntary  or 


86  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

an  involuntary  exile  from  the  dear  green  island  of  tlie  ocean, 
— ashamed  of  the  love  of  the  warrior  for  Ireland.  It  is 
not,  perhaps,  the  beauties  of  the  land  that  we  remember ; 
it  is  not,  perhaps,  the  green  hill-sides, — crowned  with  the 
Irish  oak,  made  so  beautiful  in  their  clothing  of  Irish  fern, 
—that  rise  before  our  eyes,  and  excite  the  tenderest  emotions 
of  pur  souls ;  it  was  not  the  beauties  of  Avoca  that  capti- 
vated the  poet  when  he  sang — 

*'  Yet  it  was  not  that  Nature  had  shed  o^er  the  scene 
Her  purest  of  crystal,  and  brightest  of  green ; 
'Twas  not  the  soft  magic  of  streamlet  or  hill — 
Oh,  no ! — ^it  was  somethii^  more  exquisite  still. 

"  'Twas  that  friends,  the  beloved  of  my  bosom,  were  near, 
"Who  made  every  dear  scene  of  enchantment  more  dear ; 
And  who  felt  that  the  best  charms  of  Nature  improve, 
When  we  see  them  reflected  from  looks  that  we  love." 

So,  perhaps,  it  is  not  the  material  beauty  of  Ireland, — 
the  green  hill-side,  or  the  pastoral  beauty  of  glade  or  of  val- 
ley ; — it  is  not,  perhaps,  the  running  brook,  the  mill-pond, 
the  gi*een  field,  the  moss-grown  old  abbey,  aroimd  which  we 
played  in  our  youth, — ^not  so  much  these  that  command  our 
love ;  but  it  is  the  holy,  tender  associations  of  all  that  we 
first  learned  to  love,  that  we  first  learned  to  venerate ;  the 
pure-minded,  holy,  gentle,  loving  mother,  the  wise,  strong, 
and  considerate  father ;  the  tender  friend  upon  whom  we 
leaned,  and  whose  friendship  was  to  us  the  earliest  joy  of 
our  life :  the  venerable  priest,  whose  smile  we  sought,  as  we 
bowed  our  youthful  heads  for  his  blessing ; — these,  and  such 
as  these,  are  the  motives  of  our  love  for  Ireland.  And  that 
love  is  as  keen,  as  strong,  in  the  heart  of  the  Irishman,  far 
away  from  his  native  land  to-day,  as  it  was  in  the  heart  of 
St.  Columbkille ;  as  it  was  in  the  heart  of  the  Irish  Brigade 
man,  as  he  rose  to  toast  his  heroic  motherland.  Well  is  the 
emigrant  of  to-day,  the  Irish  Exile,  described  and  depicted 
in  the  beautiful  verses  ^hich  recall  his  leaving  his  native 
land : — 

"  Adieu  I — ^the  Hnowy  safl 
Swells  its  bosom  to  the  gale, 
And  our  barque  from  Innisf ail 

Bounds  away. 


TBB  ''EXILES  OF  ERm,"*  87 

While  we  gaze  uxxm  Ihy  shore, 
That  we  never  shall  see  more, 
And  the  blinding  tears  flow  o'er, 

We  pray : 

"Jfawwmww/ bethon  l<nig 
In  x)eace,  the  queen  of  song — 
In  battle  prond  and  strong 

As  the  sea  f 
Be  saints  thine  offspring  still — 
True  heroes  guard  each  hill — 
And  harps  by  ev'ry  rill 

Sound  free ! 

"  Tho'  round  her  Indian  bowers 
The  hand  of  Nature  showers 
The  brightest-blooming  flowers 
Of  our  sphere ; 
Tet,  not  the  richest  rose 
In  an  aUen  clime  that  blows, 
Like  the  briar  at  home  that  grows, 

Is  dear. 


"•  When  I  slumber  in  the  gloom 
Of  a  nameless  foreign  tomb, 
By  a  distant  ocean's  boom, 

Innisfaill 
Around  thy  em'rald  shore, 
May  the  clasping  sea  adore. 
And  each  wave  in  thunder  roar, 

'Allhaill' 

*'  And  when  the  final  sigh, 
Shall  bear  my  soul  on  high. 
And  on  diainless  wing  I  fly 

Thro'  the  blue, 
Earth's  latest  thought  shall  be. 
As  I  soar  above  the  sea — 
Green  Erin,  dear,  to  thee — 

Adieu ! " 


88  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

Yes :  if  there  be  one  passion  that  has  outlived  every  other 
in  the  heart  of  the  true  Irishman,  it  is  the  inborn  love  for 
Ireland,  for  Ireland's  greatness,  and  for  Ireland's  glory. 
Our  fathers  loved  it,  and  knew  how  to  prize  it,  to  hold  it, — 
the  glory  of  the  faith  that  has  never  been  tarnished ;  the 
glory  of  the  National  honor  that  has  never  bowed  down  to 
acknowledge  itself  a  slave.  And,  my  friends,  the  burden  and 
the  responsibility  of  that  glory  is  youra  and  mine  to-night. 
The  glory  of  Ireland's  priesthood  ;  the  gloiy  of  St.  Columba ; 
the  glories  of  lona  and  of  Lindisfame  weigh  upon  me  with 
a  tremendous  responsibility,  to  be,  of  all  other  men,  what 
the  Irish  priest  and  monk  must  be,  because  of  that  glorious 
history.  The  glory  of  the  battle  that  has  been  so  long  fight- 
ing and  is  not  yet  closed ;  the  glory  of  that  faith  that  has 
been  so  long  and  so  well  defended  and  guarded ;  the  glory 
of  that  National  virtue  that  has  made  Ireland's  men  the 
bravest  and  Ireland's  women  the  purest  in^the  world ; — that 
glory  is  your  inheritance  and  your  responsibility  this  night. 
I  and  you,  men,  feel,  as  Irishmen  and  as  Catholics,  that  you 
and  I  to-night  are  bound  to  show  the  world  what  Irishmen 
and  Catholics  have  been  in  the  ages  before  us,  and  what 
they  intend  to  be  in  the  ages  to  come, — a  nation  and  a 
Church  that  has  never  allowed  a  stain  to  be  fixed  upon  the 
national  banner  nor  upon  the  national  altar  ; — a  nation  and 
a  Church  that,  in  spite  of  its  hard  fate  and  its  misfortunes, 
can  still  look  the  world  in  the  face  ;  for  on  Ireland's  virgin 
brow  no  stain  of  dishonor  or  of  perfidy  has  ever  been  placed. 
In  sobriety,  in  industry,  in  manly  self-respect,  in  honest  pride 
of  everything  that  an  honest  man  ought  to  be  proud  of, — 
in  all  these,  and  in  respect  for  the  laws  of  this  mighty  coun- 
try, lie  the  secret  of  your  honor  and  of  your  national  power 
and  purity.  Mark  my  words !  Let  Ireland  in  America  be 
faithful,  be  Catholic,  be  practical,  be  temperate,  be  industri- 
ous, be  obedient  to  the  laws ;  and  the  day  will  dawn,  with 
the  l^lessing  of  God,  yet  upon  you  and  me,  so  that  when  re- 
turning to  visit  for  a  time  the  green  island  from  which  we 
came,  we  shall  land  upon  the  shores  of  a  free  and  glorious 
and  unfettered  nation. 


V 


"THE  NATIOISTAL  MUSIC  OF  IRELAND." 

(A  Lecture  delivered  by  i^  Very  Rev.  T.  N.  Burke^  0.  P.^on  Friday 
evening  J  May  81, 1872,  in  the  Academy  of  Musie^  New  York.) 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen:  The  subject  on  which  I  pro- 
pose to  address  you  this  evening  is  the  National  music  of 
Ireland,  and  the  Bards  of  Ireland,  as  recorded  in  the  history 
of  the  nation.  I  have  chosen  this  subject,  my  dear  friends, 
whereon  to  address  you ;  and  if  you  ask  me  why — knowing 
that  it  was  to  be  my  privilege  to  address  an  audience  mostly 
of  my  fellow-countrymen,  I  thought  I  could  find  no  theme 
on  which,  as  an  Irishman,  to  address  my  fellow-countrymen 
more  fitting  than  that  of  our  national  music.  I  remember 
that,  among  the  grandest  and  most  ancient  titles  that  history 
gives  to  Ireland,  was  the  singular  title  of  "  The  Island  of 
Song."  I  remember  that  Ireland  alone,  among  all  the  na- 
tions of  the  earth,  has,  for  her  national  emblem,  a  musical 
instrument.  When  other  nations  stand  in  the  battle-field, 
in  the  hour  of  national  effort  and  national  triumph ; — when 
other  nations  celebrate  their  victories ; — when  they  unfold 
the  national  banner,  we  behold  there  the  lion,  or  some  em- 
blem of  power ;  the  Cross,  or  some  emblem  of  faith ;  the 
stars, — as  in  the  "  Star  Spangled  Banner  "  of  America — an 
emblem  of  rising  hope ;  but  it  is  only  in  the  by-gone  days, 
when  Ireland  had  a  national  standard,  and  upheld  it  glori- 
ously on  the  battle-field — it  was  only  then  that  Ireland  un- 
folded that  national  standard,  which,  floating  out  upon  the 
breezes  of  Heaven,  displayed,  embodied  in  that  "  banner,  of 
green,"  the  golden  Harp  of  Erin.  What  wonder  then  that, 
when  I  would  choose  a  subject,  pleasing  to  you  and  to  me, 
— something  calculated  to  stir  all  thpse  secret  emotionia  of 
national  life  and  historical  glory  which  are  still  our  inherit-  , 
ance,  though  we  are  a  conquered  people, — what  wonder  that 
I  should  have  chosen  the  subject  of  our  national  music. 

But,  first  of  all,  my  friends,  when  we  analyze  the  nature 
of  man,  we  find  that  he  is  a  being  made  up  of  a  body  and  a 


90  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

soul ;  that  is  to  say,  there  are  two  distinct  elements  of  nature 
which  ujiite  in  man.  *  There  is  the  body — ^perishable — mate- 
rials—gross ;  there  is  the  soul — spiritual — angelic,  and  coming 
to  us  from  Heaven.  For,  when  the  Creator  made  man.  He 
formed,  indeed,  his  body  from  out  of  the  slime  of  the  earth ; 
but  He  breathed,  from  His  own  Divine  lips,  the  vital  spark, 
and  set  upon  his  soul  the  sign  of  Divine  resemblance  to  Him- 
self. The  soul  of  man  is  the  seat  of  thought ; — it  is  the  seat 
of  affection ; — it  is  the  seat  of  all  the  lugher  spiritual  and 
pure  emotions.  But,  grand  as  this  soul  is — magnificent  in 
its  nature,  in  its  origin,  in  its  ultimate  destiny, — it  is  so 
united  to  the  body  of  man,  that,  without  the  evidence  -of 
the  senses  of  the  body,  the  soul  can  neither  receive  an  idea, 
nor  the  spirit  throb  to  any  high  or  spiritual  emotion.  The 
soul,  therefore,  dwelling  within  us,  is  ever  waiting  as  it  were 
to  receive  the  sensations  which  the  five  bodily  senses  convey 
to  it.  All  its  pleasure  or  its  pain,  its  sorrow  or  its  joy, — all 
must  come  through  the  evidence  of  these  senses.  The  eye 
looks  upon  something  pleasant — upon  the  beautiful  flowers, 
the  crown  of  nature's  loveliness ; — and  the  pleasure  that 
the  eye  receives  passes  to  the  soul,  and  creates  the  emotion, 
the  feeling  of  pleasure  in  the  body,  for  a  thing  of  beauty ; 
and,  in  the  soul,  of  gratitude  to  the  Lord  God  who  gave  it. 
Among  all  these  senses  of  the  body, — although  the  eye  be 
the  master,  as  St.  Augustine  tells  us, — still  the  sensations 
which  the  soul  receives  through  the  ear — the  sense  of  hear- 
ing— are  the  highest,  most  innocent  and  spiritual  of  all.  The 
evidence  of  the  eye  seems  to  appeal  more  directly  to  the 
intelligence  of  the  mind ;  it  stirs  us  up  to  think  ;  it  seldom 
calls  up  the  strong,  passionate,  instantaneous  emotions ;  but 
it  stirs  up  the  mind  to  think  and  consider.  The  ear,  on  the 
other  hand,  seems  to  bring  its  testimony  more  directly  to 
the  spirit, — to  the  seat  of  the  affections  in  man.  The  sense 
of  hearing  appeals  more  to  the  heart  than  to  the  mind. 
Hence  it  is  that,  although  "  faith  comes  by  hearing,"  and 
faith  is  the  act  of  the  intellect,  bowing  down  before  that 
great  truth  which  it  apprehends  through  the  sense  of  hear- 
ing, and  at  the  sound  of  the  preacher's  voice, — it  is  still  the 
medium  through  which  that  faith  is  received  iuto  the  soul. 
Thus,  the  Church  of  God  has  always  recognized,  and  from 
the  earliest  ages  has  striven,  by  the  sweet  strains  of  her 
sacred  music,  to  move  the  affections  of  man  towards  God. 


(( 


THE  -SrATIOlTAL  MtTSIG  OP  IttELAND.''        91 


But,  in  truiii,  has  it  not  been  from  the  beginning  thus, — 
that  men  have  always  been  accustomed* to  express  their  emo- 
tions of  joy  or  of  sorrow  to  the  sound  of  song  ?  Our  first 
parent  had  not  yet  quitted  this  earth, — this  earth,  which  was 
made  so  miserable  by  his  sin, — ^until  his  eyes  beheld,  among 
the  descendants  of  Cain,  a  man  named  Tubal,  "  who  was  the 
father  of  those  who  play  upon  organs  and  musical  instru- 
mentis."  It  was  fitting  and  harmonious  that  the  first  musi- 
cian the  world  ever  beheld  should  have  been  a  child  of  the 
reprobate  and  murderer,  Cain.  Almighty  God  permitted 
that  music  should  start  from  out  the  children  of  the  most 
unhappy  of  men.  No  doubt  they  sought,  by  the  sweet 
strains  of  melody,  to  lighten  the  burden  that  pressed  upon 
the  heart  and  spirit  of  their  most  unhappy  father.  No 
doubt  they  tried  in  the  same  strains  of  sweet  melody  to  give 
vent  to  their  own  sorrows,  or  to  lighten  the  burden  of  their 
grief  and  despair,  by  expressing  it  in  Hhe  language  of  song. 
For,  so  it  is  in  the  nature  of  man.  The  little  babe  in  its 
mother's  arms  expresses  its  sense  of  pain  by  the  wail  of  sor- 
row; and  expresses  its  meaning  so  well,  that  when  the 
mother  se^  her  child's  lips  open  and  emit  the  loud,  inartic- 
ulate cry  of  joy,  she  knows  that  the  mysterious  sunshine  of 
delight  and  pleasure  k  beaming  upon  the  soul  of  her  child. 
The  mother  herself  may  have  never  sung  until  the  voice  of 
nature  is  awakened  within  her  when  she  bears  her  first-bom 
in  h6r  arms.  Then  she  learns  the  lay  that  soothes  it  to 
sleep : 

"  The  mother,  tanght  by  nature's  hand, 
Her  child,  when  weepiog,  wfll  lull  to  sleeping 
With  the  tender  songs  of  her  native  land." 

That  music, — the  natural  melody  of  music, — ^has  a  pow- 
erful influence  upon  the  soul  of  man,  I  need  not  tell  you. 
There  is  not  one  among  us  who  has  not  experienced,  at  some 
time  or  other,  in  listening  to  the  sti-ains  of  sweet  melody — 
the  sti^ains  of  song — ^the  sensation  either  of  joy  increased,  or 
sorrow  sooiiied,  in  his  soul.  Thus,  of  old^  when  Saul,  the 
King  of  Israel,  abandoned  his  God,  and  an  evil  spirit  came 
upon  him,  from  time  to  time  shadowing  and  clouding  his 
mind  with  despair,  bringing  to  him  the  frenzy  of  ungovern- 
able sorrow, — then  his  skilful  men  sought  and  brought  him 


92  IRELAND  AND  THE  IBISK 

the  youth  David ;  and  he  sat  in  the  presence  of  the  king ; 
and  when  the  spirit  came  upon  Saul  and  troubled  him, 
David  took  his  harp  and  played  upon  it ;  and  the  spirit  de- 
parted, and  the  king  was  calmed,  and  his  mighty  sorrow 
passed  away.  So  in  like  manner,  when  the  people  of  old 
would  express  their  joy  or  exultation  before  the  Lord  God, 
— as  in  the  day  when  the  glorious  temple  of  Jerusalem  was 
opened,  and  one  hundred  and  twenty  priests  came  and  stood 
before  all  the  people,  and  from  brazen  trumpets  sent  forth 
the  voice  of  melody ;  and  the  house  of  the  Lord  was  filled 
with  music,  and  every  heart  was  gladdened,  and  all  Israel 
lifted  up  its  voice  in  song  in  unison  with  their  royal 
Prophet  King,  as  he  played  upon  his  harp  of  gold. 

Thus  it  is  that,  among  the  various  senses  and  their  evi- 
dences, the  sense  of  hearing,  through  music,  is  that  which 
seems  most  directly  and  immediately  to  touch  the  heart  and 
the  spirit  of  man.  It  is,  in  itself,  the  most  spiritual  of  all 
the  senses.  The  object  that  meets  the  eye  is  something 
tangible,  substantial — material.  The  object  that  appeals  to 
the  taste  is  something  gross  and  material.  The  thing  that 
presents  itself  to  the  senses,  through  the  touch,  must  be 
palpable  and  material.  But  what  is  it  that  the  sense  of 
hearing  presents  to  the  soul  ?  It  is  an  almost  impercepti- 
ble wave  of  sound,  acting  upon  a  delicate  membrane, — a 
fibre  the  most  delicate  in  the  human  body — the  drum  of  the 
ear — which  is  affected  by  the  vibration  of  the  air,  carrying 
the  sound  on  its  l5ivisible  wings.  And  thus  it  comes, — a 
spiritual  breath,  through  the  most  spiritual  and  soul-like  of 
all  the  senses,  and  of  all  the  evidence  those  senses  bring  to  the 
soul  of  man. 

The  effect  of  music  upon  the  memory  is  simply  magical. 
Have  you  ever,  my  friends,  tested  it  ?  Is  there  anything  in 
this  world  that  so  acts  upon  our  memory  as  the  sound  of  the 
old  familiar  song  that  we  may  not  have  heard  for  years. 
We  heard  it,  perhaps,  in  some  lonely  glen,  in  dear  old  Ireland, 
let  us  say.  We  have  been  familiar  from  our  youth  with  the 
sound  of  that  ancient  melody,  as  the  ploughman  sang  it  fol- 
lowing his  horses,  ploughing  in  the  field  ;  as  the  old  mother 
murmured  it,  as  she  rocked  the  child ;  as  the  milk-maid 
chanted  it,  as  she  milked  the  cows  in  the  evening :  it  is  one  of 
the  traditions  of  our  young  hearts,  and  of  our  young  senses. 
Then,  when  we  leave  the  green  land,  and  go  out  among 


'♦  TBE  NATIONAL  MU8IG  OF  IRELAND.'"         93 

strange  people,  we  hear  strange  words  and  strange  music. 
The  songs  of  our  native  land  for  a  moment  are  forgotten ; 
until,  upon  a  day,  perhaps,  as  we  are  passing,  that  air,  or 
old  song,  is  sung  again.  Oh,  in  an  instant,  that  magic 
power  in  the  sound  of  the  old,  familiar  notes  throngs  the 
halls  of  the  memory  with  the  dead.  They  rise  out  of  their 
graves,  the  friends  of  our  youth,  the  parents,  and  the  aged 
ones  whom  we  loved  and  revered.  Our  first  love  rises  out 
of  her  grave,  in  all  the  freshness  of  her  beauty.  So  they 
throng  the  halls  of  memory,  the  ones  we  may  have  loved  in 
the  past,  with  the  friends  whom  we  expected  never  to  think 
of  again. 

Well  does  the  poet  describe  it  when  he  says: 

"  When  through  life  unblest  we  rove, 

Losing  all  that  made  life  dear, 
Should  some  notes  we  us'd  to  love, 

In  days  of  childhood,  meet  our  ear ; 
Ob  !  how  welcome  breathes  tbe  strain, 

Wak'ning  thougbts  that  long  bave  slept — 
Kindling  former  smiles  again 

In  faded  eyes  that  long  bave  wept 

*'  Like  tbe  gale  tbait  sighs  along 

Beds  of  oriental  flowers, 
Is  tbe  grateful  sound  of  song, 

That  once  was  beard  in  happier  hours. 
Fill'd  with  balm  tbe  gale  sighs  on, 

Though  tbe  flowers  bave  sunk  in  death; 
So  when  pleasure's  dream  is  gone, 

It's' memory  lives  in  Music's  breath. 

"Music  I — oh !  bow  faint,  bow  weak, 
Language  fades  before  tby  spell  I 
"Why  should  feeling  ever  speak. 

When  thou  canst  breathe  her  soul  so  well  ? 
Friendsbip's  balmy  words  may  feign. 

Love's  are  ev'n  more  false  tban  they ; 
Ob  !  'tis  only  Music's  strain 
,  Can  sweetly  soothe,  and  not  betray." 

No  words  of  mine  can  exaggerate  the  power  tiiat  music 


94 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


has  over  the  soul  of  man.  When  the  glorious  sons  of  St, 
Ignatius, — the  magnificent  Jesuits — went  down  to  evangelize 
South  America, — to  evangelize  the  native  Indians, — the 
hostile  tribes  lined  the  river  bank ;  the  savage  chieftains 
and  warriors,  in  their  war-paint  and  dress,  stood  ready  to 
send  their  poisoned  arrows  through  the  hearts  of  these  men. 
They  would  not  listen  to  them,  or  open  their  minds  to  their 
influence ;  until,  at  length,  one  of  these  heroic  Jesuit  Mis- 
sionaries, who  were  in  a  boat,  took  a  musical  instrument 
and  began  to  play  €>ne  of  the  old  sacred  melodies ;  and  the 
others  lifted  up  their  voices  and  sang  ;  sweetly  and  melodi- 
ously they  sang,  voice  dropping  in  after  voice,  singing  the 
praises  of  Jesus  and  Mary.  The  woods  resounded  to  their 
peaceful  chants ;  the  very  birds  upon  the  trees  hushed  their 
songs  that  they  might  hear ;  and  the  savages  threw  down  their 
arms  and  rushed,  weaponless,  into  the  river,  following  after 
the  boats,  listening  with  captive  hearts  to  the  music.  Thus, 
upon  the  sound  of  song,  did  the  light  of  divine  grace  and  of 
faith  and  Christianity  reach  the  savage  breasts  of  these 
Indians. 

What  shall  we  say  of  the  power  of  music  in  stirring  up 
all  the  nobler  emotions  of  man  ?  The  tired  soldier  arrives, 
after  his  forced  march,  upon  the  battle-field.  He  hopes  for 
a  few  hours'  rest  before  he  is  called  upon  to  put  forth  all  his 
strength.  The  bugle  sounds  in  the  morning,  and  this  poor 
and  unrested  man  is  obliged  to  stand  to  his  aims  all  day, 
and  face  death  in  a  thousand  forms.  The  tug  of  war  lasts 
the  whole  day  long.  Now  retreating,  now  advancing,  every 
nerve  is  braced  up,  every  emotion  excited  in  him ;  until,  at 
length,  nature  appears  to  yield,  and  the  weary  warrior  seems 
unable  to  wield  his  sword  another  hour.  '  But  the  national 
music  strikes  up;  the  bugle  and  the  trumpets  send  forth 
their  sounds  in  some  grand  national  strain.  Then  with  the 
clash  of  the  cymbal  all  the  fire  is  aroused  in  the  man. 
Drooping,  fainting,  perhaps  wounded,  as  he  is,  he  springs 
to  his  arms  again.  Every  nobler  emotion  of  valor  and  pat- 
riotism is  roused  within  him.  To  the  sound  of  this  music, 
to  the  inspiration  of  this  national  song,  he  rushes  to  the 
front  of  the  battle,  and  sweeps  his  enemy  from  the  field. 

Thus,  when  we  consider  the  nature  of  music,  the  philoso- 
phy of  music,  do  we  find  that  it  is,  of  all  other  appeals  to  the 
senses,  the  most  spiritual ; — that  it  is,  of  all  other  fippeals 


"  THE  NATIONAL  MU8I0  OF  IRELAND:'        95 

to  the  soul,  the  most  powerful ;  that  it  operates  not  so  much 
by  the  mode  of  inflection  as  in  exciting  the  memory  and  the 
imagination,  causing  the  spirit  and  the  aflections  of  men  to 
rise  to  nobler  efforts,  and  to  thrill  with  sublime  emotions 
and  influences.  And,  therefore,  I  say  it  is,  of  aU  other 
sciences,  the  most  noble  and  the  most  god-like,  and  the 
grandest  that  can  be  cultivated  by  man  on  this  earth. 

And,  now,  as  it  is  with  individuals,  so  it  is  with  nations. 
As  the  individual  expresses  his  sense  of  pain  by  the  discord- 
ant cry  which  he  utters;  as  tfie  individual  expresses  the  joy 
of  his  soul  by  the  clear  voice  of  natural  music ;  so,  also,  every 
nation  has  its  own  tradition  of  music,  and  its  own  national 
melody  and  song.  Wherever  we  find  a  Jiation  with  a  clear, 
distinct,  sweet  and  emphatic  tradition  of  national  music, 
coming  down  from  sii'e  to  son,  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion, from  the  remotest  centuries, — there  have  we  evidence 
of  a  people  strong  in  character,  well  marked  in  their  national 
disposition  ;  there  have  we  evidence  of  a  most  ancient  civi- 
lization. But  wherever,  on  the  other  hand,  you  find  a  peo- 
ple light  and  frivolous, — not  capable  of  deep  emotions  in  re- 
ligion,— not  deeply  interested  in  their  native  land,  and 
painfully  affected  by  her  present  state, — a  people  easily 
losing  their  nationality  or  national  feeling,  and  easily  ming- 
ling with  stitmgers  and  amalgamating  with  them, — ^there  you 
will  be  sure  to  find  a  people  with  scai-cely  any  tradition  of 
national  melody  that  would  deserve  to  be  classed  among  the 
songs  of  a  nation. 

Now,  in  this  particular,  among  these  nations,  Ireland, — 
that  most  ancient  and  holy  island  in  the  Western  sea, — 
claims,  and  deservedly  claims,  upon  the  record  of  history, 
the  first  and  grandest  preeminence  among  all  peoples.  I  do 
not  deny  to  other  nations  high  musical  excellence.  I  will 
not  even  say  that  in  this,  our  day,  we  are  not  surpassed  by 
the  music  of  Germany,  by  the  music  of  Italy,  or  the  music 
of  England.  Grermany,  for  purity  of  style,  for  depth  of  ex- 
pression, for  the  argument  of  song,  surpasses  all  the  nations 
to-day.  Italy  is  acknowledged  to  be  the  queen  of  that  lighter, 
more  pleasing,  sparkling,  and  to  me  more  pleasant  style  of 
music.  In  her  own  style  of  music,  England  is  supposed  to 
be  superior  to  Italy,  and,  perhaps,  equal  to  Germany.  But,  - 
great  as  are  the  musical  attainments  of  these  great  peoples, 
there  is  not  one  of  these  nations,  or  any  other  nation,  that 


96 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


caiv  point  back  to  such  national  melody,  to  such  a  body  of 
national  music,  as  the  Irish.  Remember  that  I  am  not  now- 
speaking  of  the  labored  composition  of  some  great  master ;  I 
am  not  now  speaking  of  a  wonderful  Mass,  written  by  one 
man ;  or  a  great  Oratorio,  written  by  another ;  works  that 
appeal  to  the  ear  refined  and  attuned  by  education ; — works 
that  delight  the  critic.  I  am  speaking  of  the  song  that  lives 
in  the  hearts  and  voices  of  all  the  people  : — I  am  speaking  of 
the  national  songs  you  will  he^r  from  the  husbandman,  in  the 
field,  following  the  plough  ;  from  the  old  woman  singing  to 
the  infant  on  her  knee ;  from  the  milkmaid,  coming  from 
the  milking ;  from  the  shoemaker  at  his  work ;  or  the 
blacksmith  at  the  forge,  while  he  is  shoeing  the  horse.  This 
is  the  true  song  of  the  nation :  this  is  the  true  national  mel- 
ody that  is  handed  down,  in  a  kind  of  traditional  way,  from 
the  remotest  ages  ;  until,  in  the  more  civilized  and  cultivated 
time,  it  is  interpreted  into  written  music ;  and,  then,  the ' 
world  discovers,  for  the  first  time,  a  most  beautiful  melody 
in  the  music  that  has  been  murmured  in  the  glens  and 
mountain  valleys  of  the  country  for  hundreds  and  thousands 
of  years. 

Italy  has  no  such  song.  '  Great  as  the  Italians  are,  as 
masters,  they  have  no  popularly  received  tradition  of  music. 
The  Italian  peasants  [I  have  lived  among  them  for  years] — 
the  Italian  peasants,  while  working  in  the  vineyard,  have  no 
music  except  two  or  three  high  notes  of  a  most  melancholy 
character,  commencing  upon  a  high  dominant  and  ending  in 
a  semitone.  The  peasants  of  Tuscany  and  of  Campagna, 
when,  after  their  day's  work,  they  meet  in  the  Summer 
evenings,  to  have  a  dance,  have  no  nj^insic.  Some  one  takes 
a  tambourine,  and  beats  upon  it,  marking  time ;  and  they 
dance  to  that ;  but  they  have  no  music.  So  with  other 
countries.  But  go  to  Ireland ;  listen  to  the  old  woman  as 
she  rocks  herself  in  her  chair,  and  pulls  down  the  hank  of 
flax  for  the  spinning ;  listen  to  the  girl  coming  home  from 
the  field,  with  the  can  of  milk  on  her  head  ;  and  what  do 
you  hear  ? — the  most  magnificent  melody  of  music.  Go  to 
the  country  merry-makings  and  you  will  be  sure  to  find  the 
old  fiddler,  or  white-headed  piper,  an  infinite  source  of  the 
brightest  and  most  sparkling  music. 

How  are  we  to  account  for  this?  We  must  seek  the 
cause  of  it  in  the  remotest  history.     It  is  a  historical  fact 


"  TEE  NATIONAL  MUSIC  OF  IRELAND:'        97 

that  the  maritime  or  sea-coast  people  of  the  North  and  West 
of  Europe  were,  from  time  immemorial,  addicted  to  song. 
"We  know,  for  instance,  that  in  the  remotest  ages,  the  kings 
of  our  sea-girt  island,  when  they  went  forth  upon  their  war- 
like forays,  were  always  accompanied  by  their  harper  or  min- 
strel, who  animated  them  to  deeds  of  heroic  bravery.  Even 
when  the  Danes  came  sweeping  down  in  their  g^eys  upon 
the  Irish  coast,  high  in  the  prow  of  every  war-boat  sat  the 
skald,  or  poet, — yellow-haired,  heroic,  wrinkled  with  time, — 
the  historian  of  all  their  national  wisdom  and  their  national 
prowess.  And  when  they  approached  their  enemy, — sweep- 
ing with  their  long  oars  through  the  waves, — he  rose  in  the 
hour  of  battle,  and  poured  forth  his  soul  in  song,  and  fired 
every  warrior  to  the  highest  and  most  heroic  deeds.  Thus  it 
was  in  Ireland  when  Nial  of  the  Nine  Hostages  swept  down 
upon  the  coast  of  France;  and  took  St.  Patrick  (then  a 
•  youth)  prisoner ;  the  first  sounds  that  greeted  the  captive's 
ear  were  the  strains  of  our  old  Irish  harpers,  celebrating,  in 
a  language  he  then  knew  not,  the  glories  and  victories  of 
heroes  long  departed. 

Now,  it  was  Ireland's  fortune  that  the  sons  of  Milesius 
came  and  ^ttled  there.  They  came  from  Spain  in  the  ear- 
liest ages  ;  and  they  brought  with  them  a  tradition  of  civili- 
zation, of  law,  and  of  national  melody.  They  established  a 
system  of  jurisprudence,  established  the  reign  of  law,  of  em- 
pire, and  of  national  government  in  thp  land ;  they  made  Ire- 
land a  nation  governed  by  kings  recognizing  her  constitution 
and  laws, — governed  by  an  elective  constitutional  monarchy. 
Assembled  thus,  they  met  in  the  lofty  and  heroic  halls  of 
ancient  Tara.  There  our  ancient  history  tells  us  that,  after  the 
King  who  sat  upon  his  throne,  the  very  first  places  among 
the  princes  of  the  royal  family  were  given  to  the  bards.  They 
were  the  historians  of  the  country.  They  wrote  the  history 
of  the  nation  in  their  heroic  verse,  and  proclaimed  that  his- 
tory in  their  melodious  song ;  they  were .  the  priests  of  that 
ancient  form  of  paganism,  that  ancient  and  mysterious  form 
of  Druidical  worship  which  found  its  inspiration  in  the 
charm  of  melody.  And  so  they  popularized  their  false  gods, 
by  appealing  to  the  nation's  heart,  through  song.  They  were 
the  favorite  counsellors  of  the  kings;  they  were  the  illost 
learned  men  in  the  land ;  they  knew  all  the  national  tradi- 
tions, and  all  the  nation's  resources :  and,  therefore,  if  a  war 


98 


IRELAND  ANi)   THE  IltlSH. 


•was  to  be  planned,  or  an  alliance  to  be  formed,  or  a  treaty  to 
be  made,  the  bards  were  called  into  the  council :  it  was  their 
wise  counsel  that  guided  and  formed  the  national  purposes. 
They  accompanied  the  warrior-king  to  the  field  of  battle ; 
and  that  warrior-king's  highest  hope  was  that,  in  returning 
triumphant  from  the  field  of  his  glory,  his  name  might  be 
immortalized  among  his  fellow-men,  and  enthroned  in  the 
fame  of  the  bardic  song ;  and  that  even  if  he  was  borne  back, 
dead  upon  his  shield,  from  the  field  of  battle,  his  name 
would  be  perpetuated,  and  his  fame  would  live  on  in  the. 
hearts  and  minds  of  his  countrymen,  enshrined  in  the  glories 
of  national  song. 

Hencje  it  is,  that,  from  the  earliest  date  of  Irish  history, — 
long  before  the  light  of  Christianity  beamed  upon  us, — the 
bards  were  the  greatest  men  in  the  land.  The  minstrels  of 
Erin  filled  the  land  with  the  sound  of  their  song ;  and  the 
very  atmosphere  of  Ireland  was  impregnated  with  music. 
The  hour  is  yet  near  when  God  gave  to  our  native  land,  its 
highest  gift,  namely,  a  truly  poetic  child.  When  Ireland's 
poet  came,  to  find  fame  and  immortality  in  Ireland,  nothing 
was  left  to  him,  nothing  required  of  him,  but  to  take  these 
ancient  melodies  floating  in  the  land,  to  interpret  the  Celtic 
in  which  they  were  found,  into  the  language  of  to-day ;  and 
Tom  Moore,  Ireland's  poet,  well  might  say,  as  he  took  Erin's 
harp  in  his  hand — 

"  Dear  Harp  of  my  country  !  in  darkness  I  found  thee ; 
The  cold  chain  of  silence  had  hung  o'er  thee  long  ; 
When,  proudly,  my  own  Island  Harp,  I  unbound  thee, 
And  gave  all  thy  chords  to  light,  freedom,  and  song. 
The  warm  lay  of  love,  and  the  light  note  of  gladness 

Have  wakened  thy  fondest,  thy  liveliest  thrill : 
But,  so  oft  hast  thou  echoed  the  deep  sigh  of  sadness, 
That  e'en  in  thy  mirth  it  will  steal  from  thee  still. 

"  Dear  harp  of  my  country  !  farewell  to  thy  numbers ; 
This  sweet  wreath  of  song  is  the  last  we  shall  twine. 
Go,  sleep,  with  the  sunshine  of  fame  on  thy  slumbers, 
^  Till  touched  by  some  hand  less  unworthy  than  mine. 

If  the  pulse  of  the  patriot,  soldier,  or  lover, 

Have  throbb'd  at  our  lay,  'tis  thy  glory  alone. 
I  was  but  as  the  wind,  passing  heedlessly  over ; 
And  all  the  wild  sweetness  I  waked  was  thine  own." 


**  THE  NATIONAL  MUSIC  OF  IRELAND:'         99 

Yes ;  Ireland'^  poet  was  a  lovei:  of  his  country,  and  was 
smitten  with  her  glory ;  but  finding  that  glory  eclipsed  in 
the  present,  he  went  back  to  seek  it  in  the  past,  and  fouDd 
every  ancient  tradition  of  Erin's  ancient  greatness  still  living 
in  the  heai-ts  of  the  people  and  the  voice  of  their  national 
song.  It  was  the  music  of  Ireland,  as  it  was  the  bards  of 
Ireland,  that  kept  the  nation's  life-blood  warm,  even  when 
that  life-blood  seemed  to  be  flowing  from  every  vein.  It 
was  the  sympathy  of  Ireland's  music, — the  strong,  tender 
sympathy  of  her  bards, — that  sustained  the  national  spirit, 
even  when  all  around  seemed  hopeless. 

The  first  great  passage  in  our  history^  as  recorded  by  Ire- 
land's poet,  and  by  him  attuned  to  a  sweet  ancient  melody, 
describes  the  landing  of  the  Milesians  in  Ireland.  It  was 
many  centuries  before  Christianity  beamed  upon  the  land. 
An  ancient  Druidical  prophecy  foretold  that  the  sons  of  a 
certain  chief,  called  Gadelius,  were  to  inherit  a  beautiful 
island  in  the  West.  This  became  a  dream  of  hope  to  that 
family ;  so,  at  last,  they  resolved  to  seek  this  island  of  "  In- 
nisfail."     And,  as  the  poet  so  beautifully  expresses  it,— 

"  They  came  from  a  land  beyond  the  sea ; 

And  now  o'er  the  Western  main,  , 

Set  sail,  in  their  good  ships,  gallantly,  ' 

From  the  sunny  land  of  Spain. 

*  Oh !  Where's  the  isle  we've  seen  in  dreams  ? 

Our  destined  home  or  grave,' — 
Thus  sung  they  as,  by  the  morning's  beams, 
They  swept  the  Atlantic  wave, 

**  And  lo,  where  afar  o'er  ocean  shines 
A  sparkle  of  radiant  green, 
As  though  in  that  deep  lay  emerald  mines, 
Whose  light  through  the  wave  was  seen. 

*  'Tis  InnisfaQ  !— 'tis  Innisfail ! ' 

Rings  o'er  the  echoing  sea ; 
WhUe,  bending  to  Heaven,  the  warriors  hail 
The  home  of  the  brave  and  free." 

For  many  yeara  after  their  landing,  the  Milesians  labored 
to  make  Ireland  a  great  country ;  and  they  succeeded.  But 
the  brightest  light  of  iil  had  not  yet  beamed  upon  us ;  the 


100  IRELAND  AND  THE  URTSB. 

light  of  Christianity  was  not  yet  upon  the  land.  Yet  many 
indications  foretold  its  coming ;  and  among  others,  there  is 
one,  commemorated  in  ancient  tradition  and  ancient  song, 
which  the  poet  has  rendered  into  the  language  of  our  day. 
We  are  told  that,  years  before  Ireland  became  Catholic,  the 
daughter  of  a  certain  king  named  Leara,  or  Lir,  whose  name 
was  Fionnuala,  was  changed  by  some  magic  agency  into  the 
form  of  a  swan  ;  and  she  was  doomed  to  roam  through  the 
lakes  and  rivers  of  Ireland,  until  the  time  when  the  *'  bell 
of  Heaven  "  should  be  heard  ringing  for  the  first  Mass :  then 
the  unliappy  princess  was  to  be  restored  to  her  natural 
shape.  So  the  reasoning  bird  sailed  on  ;  and  she  sang,  to 
the  rivers  and  to  the  lakes  and  to  the  cascades,  the  song : — 

"Silent,  0  Moyle,  be  the  roar  of  thy  waters  ; 

Break  not,  ye  breezes,  your  chain  of  repose ; 
"While,  murmnring  mournfully,  Lir's  lonely  daughter 

Tells  to  the  night-star  her  tale  of  woes. 
"When  shall  the  swan,  her  death-note  singing, 

Sleep  with  wings  in  darkness  furl'd  ? 
When  shall  Heaven,  its  sweet  bell  ringing, 

Call  my  spirit  from  this  stormy  tv^orld  ? 


ti 


Sadly,  O  Moyle,  to  thy  winter  wave  weeping, 

Fate  bids  me  languish  long  ages  away ; 
For  still  in  her  darkness  does  Erin  lie  sleeping ; 

Still  doth  the  pure  light  its  dawning  delay. 
When  shall  the  day-star,  mildly  springing, 

Warm  our  isle  with  peace  and  love  ? 
When  shall  Heaven,  its  sweet  bell  ringing, 

Call  my  spirit  to  the  fields  above." 

The  light  came;  and  Patrick,  the  Catholic  Bishop,  stood 
upon  Tara's  height,  to  meet  the  intelligence,  the  music,  and 
the  mind  of  Ireland.  The  light  came;  and  Patrick,  the 
Bishop,  stood,  with  a  voice  ringing  to  words  never  heard 
before  in  the  Celtic  tongue,  and  to  a  music  newly  awakened 
in  the  land ;  with  the  Gospel  of  Christ  upon  his  lips,  and  the 
green  shamrock  in  his  hand.  And  these  wise  Druids  leaned 
upon  their  harps,  listened  and  argued  until  conviction  seized 
upon  them;  and  Dhubhac,  the  head  of  the  bards,  seized  his 
hai'p  and  said :  '^  O  ye  kings  and  men  of  Eriu  I  this  man 


"  THE  NATIONAL  MUSIC  OF  IRELAND:'      101 

speaks  the  glory  of  the  true  God ;  and  this  harp  of  mine 
shall  never  resound  again  save  unto  the  praises  of  Patrick's 
God."  Then  all  that  was  in  Ireland,  of  intelligence,  of 
affection,  of  bravery,  of  energy,  of  talent,  and  of  soul,  rose 
up ;  they  sprang  to  Patrick,  clasped  him  to  their  hearts,  and 
rose  to  the  very  height  of  Catholic  and  Christian  perfection, 
with  all  the  energy  and  the  noble  heart  of  the  old  Celtic 
Nation. 

Then  began  three  centuries  of  such  glory  as  the  world 
never  beheld  before  or  since.  The  whole  island  became  an 
island  of  saints  and  sages.  Monasteries  and  colleges 
crowned  every  hill  and  sanctified  every  valley  ;  and  in  this 
era  of  music  the  whole  island  became  the  monastic  centre 
of  Europe.  Upon  the  rising  heights  of  Mungret,  on  the 
Shannon's  banks,  five  hundred  monks,  all  well-skilled  in 
music,  sang  the  praises  of  God.  In  Bangor,  in  the  County 
Down,  thousands  of  Irish  monks  established  the  custom  of 
taking  up  the  praise  of  God  in  successive  choirs, — night  and 
day,  day  and  night ;  so  that  the  voice  of  the  singer,  the 
notes  of  the  harper,  the  sound  of  the  organ  were  never  for 
an  instant  silent  in  the  glorious  choirs  of  that  ancient  mon- 
astery. Then  do  we  read,  upon  the  testimony  of  one  of  our 
bitterest  enemies,  the  English  historian,  Sylvester  Giraldus, 
commonly  known  as  *'  Giraldus  Cambrensis,"  that  the  Irish 
so  excelled  in  music,  that  the  kings  of  Scotland  and  of 
Wales  came  thence  to  Ireland  to  look  for  harpers  and  min- 
strels to  take  back  with  them,  to  be  the  pride  and  honor  of 
their  courts.  And  the  students  who  camefrom  all  the  ends 
of  the  earth  to  study  in  the  colleges  and  schools  of  Ireland, 
among  other  things,  learned  the  music  of  the  land,  and  went 
home  to  charm  their  parents  and  their  fellow-countrymen, 
in  Germany,  in  France,  in  the  North  of  Italy,  with  the 
strains  and  the  splendid  tradition  of  music  that  they  had 
learned  in  the  island  that  was  the  mother  of  song. 

St.  Columba,  or  Columbkille,  was  the  head  of  the  bards  iti 
Ireland.  At  that  time,  so  great  was  the  honor  in  which 
the  bards  were  held,  that  an  Irish  king  bestowed  the  barony 
of  Ross-Carberry, — a  large  estate,  carrying  with  it  titles  of 
nobility, — upon  a  minstrel  harper,  in  return  for  a  glorious 
song.  Oh!  how  well  must  the  bard  have  been  honored! 
how  magnificently -and  grandly  appreciated,  when  the  kings 
of  the  land  sought  to  bestow  their  highest  dignities  upon 


102 


lEBLAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


the  child  of  song.  In  this  degenerate  age,  if  a  thing  is 
worth  scarcely  anything,  our  phrase  is  "  'tis  scarcely  worth 
a  song!  "  But,  fourteen  hundred  years  ago,  a  song,  in  Ire- 
land, if  it  was  well  written,  and  set  to  original  music,  and 
the  harper  could  skilfully  sweep  the  chords  of  his  lyre, 
and  excite  joy  or  pleasure  in  the  heart  of  his  monarch, — 
that  harper  received  a  crown  of  gold,  broad  lands,  and  titles 
of  nobility. 

A  few  years  later,  we  find  that  there  were  twelve  hun- 
dred masters  of  the  art  of  music  in  Ireland,  and  that  King 
Hugh,  of  Ireland,  was  so  much  afraid  of  them, — of  their 
influence  with  the  people, — beside  which  his  own  royalty 
seemed  to  be  nothing, — so  deeply  was  music  loved  by  the 
people, — that  he  became  jealous,  and  was  about  to  pass  a 
decree  for  the  destruction  of  the  minstrels  wholesale ;  when 
St.  Columba,  who  was  far  away  in  lona,  hearing  that  his 
brother  bards  were  about  to  be  destroyed,  hastened  from  his 
far  northern  island;  and  it  is  said  that,  as,  in  his  remorse, 
he  had  made  a  vow  never  to  look  upon  the  green  soil  of  his 
country  again,  he  came  blindfolded  and  blindfolded  he  went. 
He  was  a  bard ;  he  pleaded  as  a  bard  for  his  fellow-bards ; 
and  he  succeeded.  And  well  it  is  said  that  Ireland  and 
Scotland  may  well  be  grateful  to  the  founder  of  lona,  who 
saved  the  music  which  is  now  the  brightest  gem  in  the  crown 
of  both  lands. 

But  the  piety  and  the  peace  that  shone  upon  the  land  by 
the  glory  of  Ireland's  virtue  in  these  by-gone  days  were  so 
manifest,  that,  as  if  they  knew  it,  but  had  no  fear,  the  kings 
and  the  chieftains  of  the  land  resolved  to  test  it.  From  the 
north-west  point  of  the  island,  a  young ,  maiden,  radiant  in 
beauty,  alone  and  unprotected,  covered  with  jewels,  set  out 
to  travel  throughout  the  whole  length  of  the  land.  On  the 
highway  she  trod  any  hour  of  the  morning,  mid-day,  and  the 
evening;  she  penetrated  through  the  centre  of  the  island ; 
she  crossed  the  Shannon ;  she  swept  the  Western  coast,  and 
came  up  again  to  the  shores  of  Munster;  she  penetrated 
into  the  heart  of  royal  Tipperary ;  she  met  her  countrymen 
on  every  mile  of  her  road ;  no  man  of  Ireland  ever  offended 
her  by  a  fixed  stare ;  no  man  of  Ireland  addressed  to  her 
an  imprudent  word ;  no  hand  in  all  Ireland  was  put  forth 
to  take  from  her  defenceless  body  one  single  gem  or  jewel 
that  shone  thereon.     The  poet  thus  describes  her  as  meeting 


"  THE  NATIONAL  MU8I0  OF  IRELAND:'      103 

a  foreign  knight,  a  stranger  from  a  distant  land,  who  came 
to  behold  the  far-famed  glory  of  Catholic  Ireland  : 

"  Bich  and  rare  were  the  gems  she  wore, 
And  a  bright  gold  ring  on  her  wand  she  bore  ; 
But,  oh  !  her  beauty  was  far  beyond 
Her  sparkling  gems  or  snow-white  wand. 

*' '  Lady,  dost  thou  not  fear  to  stray, 

So  lone,  and  so  lovely,  along  this  bleak  way  ? 

Are  Erin's  sons  so  good  or  so  cold, 

As  not  to  be  tempted  by  woman  or  gold  ?  * 

"  '  Sir  knight !     I  feel  not  the  least  alarm, 
No  son  of  Erin  will  offer  me  harm  ; 
For,  though  they  love  woman  and  golden  store, 
Sir  knight !  they  love  honor  and  virtue  more !  * 

**  On  she  went,  and  her  maiden  smile 
In  safety  lighted  her  round  the  green  isle ; 
And  blest  forever  is  she  who  relied 
On  Erin's  honor,  and  Erin's  pride." 

This  vision  of  historic  loveliness  and  glory  was  rudely 
shattered  and  broken  by  the  Danish  invasion  at  the  end  of 
the  eighth  century.  The  Danes  landed  on  the  coast  of  Wex- 
ford ;  and  the  fate  of  the  country  was  imperilled  ;  the  piety 
of  the  country  was  threatened ;  the  religion  of  the  country 
was  almost  extinguished ;  aud  for  three  hundred  years,  the 
question  was  of  national  existence.  In  every  field  of  the 
land,  the  blood  of  the  people  flowed  like  water.  For  in- 
stance, when  the  Danes  and  the  Irish  met  in  the  county  of 
Wicklow,  they  encountered  each  other  in  the  "  sweet  Vale 
of  Avoca."  The  battle  began  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning ; 
it  lasted  till  nightfall.  The  rivers  flowed  red  with  blood : 
but,  when  the  sun  was  setting,  and  the  Irish  standard  of 
green,  with  the  harp  upon  its  folds, — then  crovjned,  not 
crownless,  as  to-day, — was  flung  out,  the  Gael  was  victori- 
ous ;  and  six  thousand  dead  bodies  of  the  Danes  covered  the 
Vale  of  Avoca.  Something  more  glorious  even  than  the 
tender  reminiscences  of  our  national  poet  is  the  recall  of  the 
victory  which  was  gained  there.  He  praises  the  Vale  for 
its  beauty : — 


104 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


"  There  is  not  in  this  wide  world  a  valley  so  sweet 
As  that  vale  in  whose  bosom  the  bright  waters  meet ; 
Oh  !  the  last  rays  of  feeling  and  life  must  depart, 
Ere  the  bloom  of  that  valley  shall  fade  from  my  heart." 


But  it  is  not  "  the  beauty  that  nature  has  shed  o'er  the 
scene  "  that  is  its  grandest  reminiscence ;  it  is  the  battle  that 
mingled  itself  in  that  vale,  which  saw  the  glorious  King 
Malachi  the  Second  return  victorious,  wearing 

"  The  collar  of  gold, 
Which  he  won  from  the  proud  invader, — " 

— that  evening  that  saw  the  laurels  of  Avoca  sprinkled  with 
the  red  blood  of  the  Danish  foe.     For,  as  the  poet  says, — 

"  Less  dear  the  laurel  growing, 
Alive,  untouch'd  and  blowing, 

Than  this  whose  braid 

Is  pluck'd  to  shade 
The  brows  with  victory  glowing. 

"  We  tread  the  land  that  bore  us, 
Her  green  flag  flutters  o'er  us. 

The  friends  we've  tried 

Are  by  our  side, 
And  the  foe  we  hate  before  us." 


This  was  Ireland's  cry  on  that  glorious  field. 

Yet,  although  the  future  was  so  grievously  imperilled, — 
although  so  many  interests  were  threatened  with  destruction, 
— yet  Ireland,  during  these  three  hundred  years  of  Danish 
war,  kept  her  music.  Her  bards  were  in  the  battle-fields  ; 
and  often  the  sound  of  the  harp  mingled  with  the  cry  of  the 
combatants ;  and  often  the  hand  that  "  smote  down  the 
Dane,"  like  that  of  the  glorious  King  who  fell  at  Clontarf, 
— Brian  Boroimhe, — was  a  hand  that  could  not  only  draw 
the  sword  and  wield  it,  but  could  sweep  the  harp,  and  bring 
forth  from  its  chords  of  silver  or  of  gold  the  genius  and  the 
tenderness  of  Irish  song.  But  on  the  field  of  Clontarf,  when 
Brian  went  forth  to  the  battle,  the  chief  of  his  bards,  Mac 
Liag,  who  accompanied  him  to  the  field,  and  went  before  hirn 


''THE  NATIONAL  MUSIC  OF  IRELAND.''      105 

as  lie  reviewed  bis  army,  brotight  forth,  with  trembliDg  fin- 
gers, the  spirit  of  the  national  music,  and  braced  the  arms 
of  the  hero.  That  minstrel,  had  to  take  back  with  him  the 
dead  body  of  his  aged  and  well-loved  monarch ;  and  he  lifted 
up  his  voice  in  a  song,  the  sweetest  and  most  tender,  yet 
most  manly  expression  of  the  grief  of  the  faithful  friend  and 
servant,  as  he  sat  in  the  hall  of  Kincora,  and  filled  it  with 
his  lamentation  over  the  body  of  Ireland's  greatest  king. 
He  told  the  nation  to  remember  his  glories,  and  the  bards  to 
fling  out  the  name  of  Brian  as  the  strongest  argument  of 
bravery: — 

"  Remember  the  glories  of  Brian  the  Brave, — 
Though  the  days  of  the  hero  are  o'er, 
Though  lost  to  Mononia,  and  cold  in  the  grave, 

He  returns  to  Kincora  no  more. 
The  star  of  the  field,  which  so  often  hath  poured 
,  Its  beam  o'er  the  battle,  is  set ; 
But  enough  of  its  glory  remains  on  each  sword, 
To  light  us  to  victory  yet. 

**  Mononia ! — when  Nature  embellish'd  each  tint 

Of  thy  fields  and  thy  mountains  so  fair, — 
Did  she  ever  intend  that  a  tyrant  should  print,   . 

The  footstep  of  slavery  there  ? 
No  !  Freedom,  whose  smile  we  shall  never  resign. 

Go,  tell  our  invaders,  the  Danes, 
That  'tis  sweeter  to  bleed  for  an  age  at  thy  shrine. 

Than  to  sleep  but  a  moment  in  chains." 

Brian  passed  to  his  honored  grave  and  to  the  immortality 
of  his  Irish  human  fame ;  and  with  his  lips  upon  the  cruci- 
fix he  sent  forth  his  spirit  to  God.  The  unhappy  year  1168 
came,  and  brought  with  it  the  curse  of  Ireland  in  the  first 
cause  of  the  English  invasion.  Bear  with  me,  ye  maidens 
and  mothers  of  Ireland,  bear  with  me  when  I  tell  you  that 
this  curse  was  brought  upon  us  by  an  Irishwoman ;  and  I 
would  not  mention  her  save  that  in  all  liistory  she  is  the 
only  daughter  of  Ireland  who  ever  fixed  a  stain  on  the  white 
banner  of  Erin.  She  was  an  Irish  princess  named  Dear- 
bhorgail,  who  was  maiTied  to  O'Buark,  Piince  of  Brefni,  but 
eloped   with   Dermod    MacMurchadh,   King    of    Leinster. 


106 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


O'Riiark,  at  the  time,  was  absent  on  a  religious  pilgrimage 
of  devotion.  His  return  to  his  abandoned  home,  and  his  de- 
spair, are  commemorated  in  song,  The  whole  nation  was 
aroused,  and  the  unhappy  Dearbhorgail  and  her  paramour, 
the  King  of  Leinster,  were  banished  from  the  Irish  soil. 
Why?  Because,  with  her  traditions,  of  fame  and  gloiy, 
there  was  no  room  on  the  soil  of  Ireland  for  the  adulterous 
man  or  for  the  faithless  woman.  Thus  driven  forth,  Mac- 
Murchadh  invoked  the  aid  of  Henry  II.  to  reinstate  him ; 
and,  in  the  year  1169,  that  monarch  sent  over  an  English,  or 
rather  a  Norman  army ;  they  .set  foot  upon  Ireland ;  and 
there  they  are,  unfortunately,  to-day.  From  that  hour  to 
this,  the  history  of  Ireland  is  written  in  tears  and  blood. 
On  returning,  his  thoughts  full  of  God,  O'Ruark  sees  the 
towers  of  his  castle  rise  before  him.  The  poet  thus  describes 
his  emotions  : —  " 

"  The  valley  lay  smiling  before  me, 

Where  so  lately  I  left  her  behind  ; 
Yet  I  trembled,  and  something  hnng  o'er  me, 

That  saddened  the  joy  of  my  mind. 
I  looked  for  the  lamp,  which  she  told  me 

Should  shine  when  her  pilg^m  retamed ; 
But  though  darkness  began  to  enfold  me, 

No  lamp  from  th^  battlements  burned. 

"  I  flew  to  her  chamber  ; — 'twas  lonely, 

As  if  the  loved  tenant  lay  dead ! 
Ah  I  would  it  were  death  and  death  only  I 

But  no,  the  young  false  one  had  fled  I 
And  there  hung  the  lute  that  could  soften 

My  very  worst  pain  into  bliss ;  ^ 

While  the  hand  that  had  waked  it  so  often 

Now  throbbed  to  a  proud  rival's  kiss. 

"  There  was  a  time,  falsest  of  women, 

When  Brefni's  good  sword  would  have  sought 
That  man,  through  a  million  of  f  oemen, 

Who  dared  but  to  doubt  thee  in  thought  I 
While  now, — oh,  degenerate  daughter 

Of  Erin,  how  fallen  is  thy  fame  ! 
Through  ages  of  bondage  and  slaughter, 

Thy  country  shall  bleed  for  thy  shame 


"  THE  NATIONAL  MUSIG  OF  IRELAND.''      107 

*'  Already  the  cixrse  is  upon  her, 

And  strangers  her  valleys  profane  ; 
They  come  to  divide,  to  dishonor ; 

And  tyrants  they  long  will  remain. 
But,  onward  !  the  green  banner  rearing ; 

Go,  flesh  every  sword  to  the  hilt ; 
On  our  side  is  virtue  and  Erin, 

On  theirs  is  the  Saxon  and  guilt." 

The  war, — the  sacred  war, — began.  We  know  that,  for 
four  hundred  sad  years,  that  war  was  carried  on  with 
varying  success.  On  many  a  field  was  it  well  fought 
and  well-defended — this  cause  of  Ireland's  national  in- 
dependence. Many  a  man,  glorious  in  her  history,  wrote 
his  name  upon  its  annals  with  the  point  of  a  sword  dripping 
with  Saxon  blood.  Yet  the  cause  was  a  losing  one,  though 
not  a  lost  one.  "Well  might  Ireland's  patriots  weep  when 
they  saw  division  in  the  camp,  division  in  the  council; — 
when  they  saw  the  brightest  names  in  Ireland's  history 
going  to  look  for  Norman  honors, — to  sink  the  proud  names 
of  the  O'Brien,  the  O'Neil,  or  the  O'Donnell  in  the  vain 
titles  of  the  Earl  of  this,  or  the  Earl  of  that.  Well  might 
the  impassioned  minstrel  exclaim,  in  the  agony  of  the 
thought  that,  perhaps,  Ireland  was  never  more  to  be  a  na- 
tion,— 

*'  Oh  !  for  the  swords  of  former  time  ! 

Oh !  for  the  men  who  bore  them, 
When,  armed  for  right,  they  stood  sublime, 

And  tyrants  crouch'd  before  them ; 
When  pure  yet,  ere  courts  began 

With  honors  to  enslave  him, 
The  noblest  honors  worn  by  man 
).  Were  those  which  virtue  gave  him." 

llow  fared  it  with  the  bards  during  this  long-protracted 
agony  of  national  woe  ?  They  still  animated  the  hopes  of 
the  nation :  they  still  made  their  appeals  to  the  Irish  heart : 
they  still  made  the  pulse  of  the  nation  vibrate  again  to  the 
vibration  of  their  glorious  harps.  Spencer,  the  English 
poet,  reproached  them,  because  they  sang  only  of  love. 
Alas !  they  had  scarcely  any  other  field.  The  time  of  na- 
tional glory — of  national  prosperity — was  gone.     They  were 


108 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


the  voice  of  an  oppressed  and  down-trodden  people ;  there- 
fore did  the  Irish  bard  answer — 

"  Oh !  blame  not  the  bard,  if  he  fly  to  the  bowers 
Where  pleasure  lies  carelessly  smiling  at  fame ; 
He  was  bom  for  much  more,  and,  in  happier  hours, 
'  His  soul  might  have  burned  with  a  holier  flame. 

The  string  which  now  languishes  loose  o'er  the  lyre, 

Might  have  bent  a  proud  bow  to  the  warrior's  dart ; 
And  the  lip  which  now  breathes  but  the  song  of  desire, 
Might  have  poured  the  full  tide  of  a  patriot's  heart." 

Yes ;  they  did  not  content  themselves,  these  bards,  with 
merely  animating  the  national  purpose,  and  thrilling  and 
rousing  the  national  heart  and  courage.  They  did  more.  In 
the  day  of  battle  and  danger,  when  they  sounded  the  tocsin 
for  the  war  and  for  the  fight,  then  the  bards  that  could  have 
awakened,  and  did  awaken,  the  tenderest  straiiflS  of  song,  were 
foremost  in  the  battle-field,  fighting  for  Erin.  Ifc  is  more 
than  an  idle  tradition,  that,  which  is  embodied  in  the  poet's 
verse : 

"  The  minstrel  boy  to  the  war  has  gone  ; 
In  the  ranks  of  death  you'll  find  him  : 
His  father's  sword  he  has  girded  on, 

And  his  wild  harp  slung  behind  him. 
*  Land  of  song,'  cried  the  warrior  bard, 
'  Though  all  the  world  betrays  thee. 
One  sword,  at  least,  thy  rights  shall  guard,  ^^ 

One  faithful  harp  shall  praise  thee.' 

**  The  minstrel  fell,  but  the  foeman's  chain 

Could  not  bring  his  proud  soul  under ; 
The  harp  he  loved  ne'er  spoke  again, 

For  he  tore  its  chords  asunder ; 
Aiid  said,  '  No  chains  shall  sully  thee, 

Thou  soul  of  love  and  bravery  ! 
Thy  songs  were  made  for  the  pure  and  free. 

They  shall  never  sound  in  slavery.' " 

Three  hundred  years  ago,  that  mild  and  holy  man  whose 
name  I  have  sometimes  had  occasion  to  mention  before,  at 
the  sound  of  whose  name  rises  before  you  the  picture  of  a 


''THE  NATIONAL  MUSIC  OF  IRELAND.''      109 

bloated,  wallowing  swine,  with  his  blood-shot,  inflamed  eyes, 
reeking  with  lust,  and  his  hands  clutching  for  a  throat,  to 
grasp  a  suiSerer  and  extinguish  a  life ;  and  his  huge  frame 
scarcely  able  to  move; — well,  his  name  is  Henry  the 
Eighth  ;-5-one  of  the  first  laws  he  made  was,  that  every 
harper  and  every  minstrel  in  Ireland  should  be  put  to  death. 
It  was  so  like  him.  He  was  so  fond  of  killing  people, — 
especially  women.  Every  good-looking  lady  in  England,  in  * 
his  time,  was  dreadfully  afraid  of  him ;  and,  if  you  wanted 
a  lady  to  faint,  or  to  put  up  her  hands  to  see  if  her  head 
was  on  her  shoulders,  you  had  only  to  say,  "  I  hear  the 
King  is  a  great  admirer  of  yours."  Then, — and  even  before 
his  time,  from  the  day  that  the  Norman  invader  first  set 
foot  on  the  soil  of  Ireland, — we  have  the  testimony  of  his- 
tory for  it ;  we  have  the  decrees  of  the  English  monarchs 
for  it, — the  Irish  bards  and  minstrels, — Irish  to  their 
heart's  core, — were  in  the  habit  of  coming  into  the  English 
camps  and  playing  their  national  Irish  airs.  The  English 
knew  that  these  men  were  their  enemies ;  they  had  orders 
from  the  king  to  seize  any  harper  that  came  into  their 
camps,  because  they  came  only  as  spies,  to  find  out  the 
strength  and  disposition  of  their  forces ;  yet,  oh !  glory  of 
Ireland !  so  sweet  was  the  performance  of  these  men, — so 
melodious  their  music,  that  in  spite  of  the  royal  decree,  the 
English  soldiers,  officers,  and  generals  used  to  go  out  to 
look  for  these  harpers  and  bring  them  into  camp.  Giraldus 
Cambrensis,  who  wrote  a  history  of  Ireland,  was  obliged  to 
admit  there  was  no  such  miisic  heard  in  the  world; — and, 
coming  down  to  the  eighteenth  century,  the  learned  and 
accomplished  Geminiani,  who  died  in  Dublin  in  1783,  left 
in  his  history  of  music  these  words  : — "  There  is  no  orig- 
inal music  in  the  West  of  Europe,  except  the  Irish." 
Queen  Elizabeth,  following  in  the  footsteps  of  her  Iioly 
and  accomplished  father,  imitating  him  in  everything, 
even  in  her  immaculate  purity, — resembling  him  perfectly, 
except,  that  while  her  father  was  corpulent  as  a  whale,  she 
was  as  thin  as  a  herring, — ^this  Queen  of  England  passed 
another  law.  She  said  :  "  We  never  can  conquer  Ireland, 
and  we  can  never  make  Ireland  Protestant  as  long  as  the 
minstrels  are  there."  So,  she  passed  a  law  that  they  were 
all  to  be  hung ;  and  there  was  a  certain  lord  in  her  court, 
with,  I  regret  to  say,  an  Irish  title, — ^my  Lord  Barrymore, — 


110 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


who  promised  to  do  this,  and  was  appointed,  and  took  out  a 
commission  to  hang  every  man  that  was  a  harper.  Why? 
Because  the  same  spirit  by  which  the  bard  and  minstrel  had 
kept  the  nation  up  to  its  national  contest,  now  turned  its 
attention  to  the  other  element  Of  discord  ;  and  as  the  na- 
tional war  became  a  religious  war,  the  bard  proved  as  Cath- 
olic as  he  was  Irish. 

There  are  two  ideas  in  the  mind  of  every  true  Irishman, 
and  these  two  ideas  England  never  was  able  to  root  out  of 
the  land,  nor  out  of  the  intellect,  nor  out  of  the  hearts  of 
the  Irish  people.  And  these  two  ideas  are : — Ireland  is  a 
nation.  That  is  number  one.  Ireland  is  a  Catholic  nation ; 
and  so  will  she  remain.  Plundered  of  our  property,  they 
made  us  yjoor.  We  preferred  poverty  rather  than  deny  our 
religion  and  become  renegades  to  God.  Our  schools  were 
taken  from  us,  and  they  thought  they  were  reducing  us 
thereby  to  a  state  of  beastly  ignorance.  They  made  it  a. 
crime  for  an  Irishman  to  teach  his  son  how  to  read.  Our 
religion  kept  us  enlightened  in  spite  of  them.  England 
never,  never  succeeded  in  affixing  the  stain  of  degradation 
and  ignorance  upon  the  Irish  people.  They  robbed  us  of 
liberty,  as  well  as  of  property  ;  they  robbed  us  of  life  ;  they 
took  the  best  of  the  land  and  slaughtered  them ;  they  took 
the  holy  priests  from  the  altars  and  slaughtered  them.  They 
took  our  Bishops,  the  glorious  men  of  old,  and  slew  them. 
When  Ireton  entered  Limerick,  he  found  O'Brien,  the 
Bishop  of  Emly — a  saint  of  God, — found  him  there — where 
an  Irish  Bishop  ought  to  be^in  the  midst  of  his  people, 
rallying  them  to  the  fight,  sending  them  into  the  breach 
again  and  again.  They  took  O'Brien,  the  Irish  Bishop, 
brought  him  into  tho  open  street,  before  his  people,  and 
they  slaughtered  him,  as  a  butcher  would  slaughter  a  beast. 
They  took  Bishop  O'Hurley,  and  brought  him  to  Stephen's 
Green,  in  Dublin,  and  there  tied  him  to  a  stake,  and  roasted 
him  to  death  at  a  slow  fire.  They  took  six  hundred  of  my 
own  brave  brethren, — Dominicans, — brave,  true  men,  Irish- 
men all.  Oliver  Cromwell,  wherever  you  are  to-night,  I  be- 
lieve you  have  the  blood  of  these  six  hundred  priests  upon 
you, — all  except  four !  There  were  only  four  left !  Think 
of  this !  They  thought  that,  when  an  Irishman  was  com- 
pletely crushed,  he  ought  to  buy  at  least  an  aero  of  land,  the 
JUqid  that  belonged  tp  him,  or  a  morsel  of  bread  to  feed  hi^ 


"  THE  NATIONAL  MUSIC  OF  IRELAND,''      \\\ 

family,  by  becoming  a  Protestant.  The  Irish  people — men 
and  women — declared  that  their  religion, — their  faith,  was 
dearer  to  them  than  their  lives.  The  Irish  peasant  man, — 
pure,  strong,  warlike,  determined,  high-minded,  true  to  his 
God,  trub  to  his  native  land,  true  to  his  fellow-men, — 
kneeled  down  before  the  ruined  shrine  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  that  he  loved  ;  and  to  that  Church  he  said : — 

"  Through  gfrief  and  through  danger,  thy  smile  hath  cheer'd  my 

way, 
Till  hope  seemed  to  bud  from  each  thorn  that  round  me  lay. 
The  darker  our  fortune,  the  brighter  oxir  pure  love  bum'd ; 
Till  shame  into  glory,  till  fear  into  zeal  was  turned. 
Yes,  slave  as  I  was,  in  thine  arms  my  spirit  felt  free, 
And  bless'd  even  the  sorrows,  that  made  me  more  dear  to  thee. 

"  Thy  rival  was  honor'd,  while  thou  wert  wrong'd  and  scom'd; 
Thy  crown  was  of  briars,  while  gold  her  brows  adom'd ; 
She  woo'd  me  to  temples,  while  thou  lay'st  hid  in  caves  ; 
Her  friends  were  all  masters,  while  thine,  alas !  were  slaves ; 
Yet  cold  in  the  earth,  at  thy  feet,  I  would  rather  be, 
Than  wed  where  I  love  not,  or  turn  one  thought  from  thee." 

This  time,  England  recognized  in  the  Irish  bards  not  only 
the  enemies  of  her  dominion, — which  would  fain  extinguish 
the  nationality  of  Ireland, — ^but  still  more  the  enemies  of 
her  reformed  Protestant  religion,  which  would  rob  Ireland 
of  her  ancient  faith,  which  she  received  from  her  Apostle. 
The  bards  lived  on,  however.  In  spite  of  Henry  VIII.,  in 
spite  of  Elizabeth,  and  in  spite  of  my  Lord  Barrymore,  who 
took  the  contract  as  hangman  to  dispose  of  them,  they  lived 
on  down  to  the  time  of  Carolan  ;  and  we  have,  in  a  history 
of  Scotland,  the  testimony  of  a  man  who  says  that  the 
Scotch,  Welsh,  and  English,  in  the  memory  of  living  men  in 
his  time,  used  to  go  over  to  Ireland  to  study  music.  Han- 
del, the  great  composer,  one  of  the  greatest  giants  of  modem 
song,  went  over  to  London :  he  was  colcllv  received.  He 
went  from  England  to  stay  in  Dublin,  where  he  was  so 
warmly  received,  and  found  every  note  of  his  music  so 
thoroughly  appreciated,  that  he  immediately  set  to  work 
and  wrote  that  immortal  work,  the  Oratorio  of  "  The  Mes- 
siah," under  the  inspiration  pf  9Jx  Irish  welcome.    This 


112 


IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRISH. 


grandest  of  all  modem  pieces  was  first  brought  out  in  Dub- 
Jin,  before  an  Irish  audience. 

Carolan,  the  last  of  the  bards,  died  but  a  few  years  before 
Moore  was  born.  It  seemed  as  if  the  last  star  in  the  firma- 
ment of  Ireland's  bards  had  set.     It  seemed  indeed  as  if 

*'  The  harp  that  once  through  Tara's  halls 
The  soul  of  music  «lied, 
Now  hung  as  mute  on  Tara's  walls 
As  if  that  soul  were  fled." 

But  that  star  of  Ireland's  song,  Tom  Moore,  greatest  of  Ire- 
land's modern  poets,  immortalized  himself  as  well  as  the 
songs  of  ids  country  in  his  famous  "  Irish  Melodies."  "Where 
have  you  ever  heard  such  simple,  yet  entrancing,  melodies  ? 
The  greatest  men  among  modern  composers,  though  they 
hold  the  palm  of  supremacy,  yet  admit  that  this  music  has 
a  melody  of  its  own  which  cannot  be  equalled.  Some  of 
these  melodies  are  as  ancient  as  Ireland's  Christianity.  Take, 
for  instance,  the  air  of  "  Eileen  Aroon."  So  fair  and  beau- 
tiful is  the  melody  of  this,  that  Handel  declared  he  would 
rather  be  the  author  of  that  simple  melody  than  of  all  the 
works  that  ever  came  from  his  pen  or  from  his  mind.  These 
airs  are  sung  in  every  land.  They  are  admired  wherever 
the  influence  of  music  extends.  They  have  softened — even 
in  our  own  modern  times  they  have  softened  and  prepared 
the  English  mind  to  grant  us  Catholic  Emancipation.  Of 
course  the  most  powerful  motive,  as  experience  has  proved, 
was  fear.  This  is  the  principal  motive  for  any  concession 
we  receive  from  England.  But  certain  it  is  that  the  Irish 
songs  and  melodies  of  the  old  Irish  bards  popularized  the 
Irish  character  in  England,  and  enabled  us  the  more  easily 
to  gain  that  which  was  wrung  frcjm  England's  king  and  Eng- 
land, through  the  sympathy  that  was  created  by  Moore's 
"Melodies."  Hence  it  is  that  he  himself  expresses  the 
anguish,  yet  the  hope,  of  the  bard : 


ii 


But  tho'  glory  be  gone,  and  tho'  hope  fade  away, 
Thy  name,  lov6d  Erin,  shall  live  in  his  songs ; 

Not  even  in  the  hour  when  his  heart  is  most  gay, 
Can  he  lose  the  remembrance  of  thee  and  thy  wrongs. 


"  TEE  NATIONAL  MUSIC  OF  IRELAND:'      113 

The  stranger  shall  hear  thy  lament  o'er  his  plains ; 

The  sigh  of  thy  harp  shall  be  sent  o'er  the.  deep ; 
Till  thy  masters  themselves,  as  they  rivet  thy  chains, 

Shall  pause,  at  the  song  of  their  captive,  and  weep !  '* 

Music  is  the  most  spiritual  of  all  human  enjoyments. 
The  pleasures  of  the  taste  are  beastly ;  the  pleasures  of  the 
eye  are  dangerous :  the  pleasures  of  the  ear,  the  delight  of 
listening  to  strains  of  sweet  song,  is  at  once  the  most  en- 
trancing and  least  dangerous  of  all  the  pleasures  of  sense. 
You  may  enjoy  more  of  the  pleasure  of  music  without  sensu- 
ality— it  is  scarcely  capable  of  exciting  any  undue  emotion 
of  the  heart  or  temptation  of  the  mind.  Nay  more — we 
know  from  the  Scriptures  that  music,  that  song,  is  the  native 
language  of  Heaven,  as  it  is  the  natural  language  of  man 
upon  the  earth.  We  know  that,  as  music  recalls  the  most 
vivid  and  tender  recollections  of  earth,  so  that  the  dead 
start  from  their  graves  and  throng  once  more  the  halls  of 
memory  at  the  sound  of  the  well-known  song,  so  also  we 
know  the  joy  of  even  the  blessed  angels  of  God  is  expressed 
in  the  language  of  divine  and  celestial  song.  It  was  a 
theory  of  old  that  the  very  spheres  moved  to  a  grand  har- 
mony of  their  own ;  whereupon  our  national  bard  sang — 

"Sing — sing-^music  was  given 
To  brighten  the  gay  and  kindle  the  loving  ; 

Souls  here, — like  planets  in  Heaven, — 
By  harmony's  laws  alone  are  kept  moving." 

For,  that  which  is  a  simple  theory  of  the  spheres  of  the 
created  firmament,  is  to  be  received  as  a  reality  when  we 
regard  the  harmony  of  the  divine  sphere  of  Heaven.  There 
the  angels  sing  the  praises  of  God  ;  there  the  air  of  Heaven 
is  resonant  with  songs  of  joy — with  the  sweet  concord  of 
many  sounds  mingled  with  the  strains  of  the  angelic  harpers 
upon  their  harps.  Oh,  let  us  hope  that  as  we,  as  a  nation, 
have  the  privilege  among  the  nations  to  hold  in  our  national 
melodies  the  sweetest  and  tenderest  strains  of  human  song, 
so  may  we  as  children  of  that  nation  and  land  of  song  carry 
our  taste  with  us  into  the  field  of  the  purest  of  melodies,  and 
that  those  who  sang  best  upon  earth  may  sing  best  in  the 


/ 


114  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

courts  of  God.  In  vain  would  Ireland's  song  be  the  bright- 
est of  all  earthly  melody,  unless  that  song  were  to  be  per- 
petuated in  the  higher  echoes  and  grander  melodies  of 
Heaven.  Have  we  not  reason  to  believe  that  those  bards 
and  heroes  who  stood  in  the  hour  of  battle  and  danger  and 
difficulty  for  their  home,  and  their  national  liberty,  for  God 
and  their  native  land,  and  died  for  these,  have  we  not  good 
reason  to  believe  that  those  children  of  song  have  joined  the 
higher  and  more  celestial  choir?  Yes,  Ireland's  minstrels 
sung  the  apostolic  song  of  faith,  the  virgin  song  from  the  lips 
of  the  holy  St.  Bridget, — the  song  of  the  holy,  pure,  stainless 
daughters  of  Erin,  who  are  now,  as  in  days  past,  our  joy  and 
glory ;  their  song  was  the  sweetest  on  earth,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  will  be  the  sweetest  in  heaven.  Let  us,  therefore, 
cling  to  the  loved  old  land  that  made  heroes  of  them,  to  the 
love  of  our  old  religion  that  made  saints  of  them ;  let  us 
remember  that  every  Irishman,  all  the  world  over,  and 
every  son  of  an  Irishman,  and  every  grandson  of  an  Irish- 
man,— has  that  blood  in  his  veins  which  brings  to  him  the 
responsibility  and  the  tradition  of  fifteen  hundred  years 
of  national,  as  well  as  religious,  glory ; — the  responsibility 
through  which  our  fathers  from  their  graves  appeal  to  us  for 
God  and  for  Erin ;  the  noblest,  the  best  blood,  in  which 
a  pure  nationality,  always  preserved  and  left  distinct,  is 
sanctified  by  the  highest  purity  of  an  unchanged  and  un- 
changing faith.  That  is  the  glory  of  every  Irishman  in  the 
world,  and  it  brings  a  responsibility;  for  such  a  man  is 
obliged,  beyond  all  other  men,  to  live  up  to  these  traditions, 
and  show  that  he  is  no  degenerate  scion  of  such  a  race.  I 
have  come  here  among  you ;  and  on  my  return  to  Ireland 
I  will  bear  in  my  heart  the  joy,  and  on  my  lips  the  glad 
message,  that  you,  my  friends,  are  no  degenerate  sons  of 
Ireland.  I  will  bring  back,  to  cheer  the  saddened  hearts  at 
home, — I  will  bring  back,  to  gladden  the  expectant  hearts 
at  home, — the  good  and  the  manly  and  the  glorious  message 
that  I  have  met  thousands  and  thousands  of  Irishmen  in 
America ;  but  that,  amid  all  the  rising  glories  of  their  new 
country,  I  have  not  met  one  who  had  forgotten  his  love  or 
his  affection  for  the  land  of  his  birth.  If  such  a  one  there 
be,  if  such  an  Irishman  be  or  exist,  so  forgetful  of  the  his- 
tory, so  dead  to  the  glory  of  his  native  land,  as  to  be 
ashamed  of  being  an  Irishman, — if  such  a  man  be  in  exist- 


''THE  NATIONAL  MU8I0  OF  IRELAND:'      115 

ence  in  this  country, — he  has  spared  me  the  pain,  the  hu- 
miliation, and  the  disgust  of  showing  himself. 

And  now,  my  friends,  having  invited  your  attention  to 
the  subject  of  Ireland's  national  music,  let  me  wind  up  with 
one  or  two  reflections  similar  to  those  with  which  I  began. 
Irish  song  has  played  a  large  part,  not  only  in  the  sti'ength- 
ening  of  Ireland's  sons,  but  also  in  the  conciliation  of  Ire- 
land's most  bitter  enemies.  Even  as  Moore  made  every  true 
heart  and  every  true  and  noble  mind  in  the  world  melt  into 
sorrow  at  the  contemplation  of  Ireland's  wrongs  and  the  in- 
justice that  she  suffered,  as  they  came  home  to  every  sym- 
pathetic heart  upon  the  wings  of  Ireland's  ancient  melody, 
yet  he  said  to  the  harp  of  his  country, — 

*'  Go,  sleep  with  the  Bunshine  of  fame  on  thy  slombers, 
Till  waked  by  some  hand  less  unworthy  than  mine." 

A  hand  less  unworthy  came ;  a  hand  less  unworthy  than 
Thomas  Moore's ;  a  hand  more  loyal  and  true  than  even  his 
was,  when  in  Ireland's  lays  appeared  the  immortal  Thomas 
Davis.  He  and  the  men  upon  whom  we  built  up  our  hopes 
for  Young  Ireland, — he,  with  them,  seized  the  sad,  silent 
harp  of  Erin,  and  sent  forth  another  thrill  in  the  invitation 
to  the  men  of  the  North  to  join  hands  with  their  Catholic 
brethren, — to  the  men  of  the  South  to  remember  the  ai^- 
cient  glories  of  **  Brian  the  Brave."  To  the  men  of  Con- 
naught,  he  seemed  to  call  forth  Roderic  O'Conor  from  his 
gi-ave  at  Clonmacnoise.  He  rallied  Ireland,  in  that  year  so 
memorable  for  its  hopes  and  for  the  blighting  of  those  hopes. 
He  and  the  men  of  the  Nation  did  what  this  world  has  never 
seen  in  the  same  space  of  time,  by  the  sheer  power  of  Irish 
genius,  by  the  sheer  strength  of  Young  Ireland's  intellect ; 
the  Nation  of  '43  created  a  national  poetry,  a  national  lit- 
erature, which  no  other  country  can  equal.  Under  the  magic 
voices  and  pens  of  these  men,  every  ancient  glory  of  Ireland 
stood  forth  again.  I  remember  it  well.  I  was  but  a  boy  at  the 
time ; — but  I  remember  with  what  startled  enthusiasm  I 
would  arise  from  reading  "  Davis's  Poems  ;  "  and  it  would 
seem  to  me  that,  before  my  young  eyes,  I  saw  the  dash  of 
"  the  Biigade,"  at  Fontenoy  ; — it  would  seem  to  me  as  if  my 
young  ears  were  filled  with  the  shout  that  resounded  at  the 
Yellow  Ford  and  Benburb, — the  war-cry  of  the  Red  Hand, — 


116  IRELAND  AND  THE  IHISK 

L^ti)  be-ATt5  <vbUj  as  the  English  hosts  were  swept  away,  and, 
like  snow  under  the  beams  of  the  rising  sun,  melted  before 
the  Irish  onset.  The  dream  of  the  poet, — the  aspiration  of 
the  true  Irish  heart,— is  yet  unfulfilled.  But  remember 
that  there  is  something  sacred  in  the  poet's  dream.  The  in- 
spiration of  genius  is  second  only  to  the  inspiration  of  re- 
ligion. There  is  something  sacred  and  infallible, — ^with  all  our 
human  fallibility, — in  the  hope  of  a  nation  that  has  never 
allowed  the  hope  of  freedom  to  be  extinguished.  For  many 
a  long  year,  day  and  night,  the  sacred  fire  that  was  enkindled 
before  St.  Bridget's  shiine,  at  Kildare,  was  fed  and  sent  its 
pure  flame  up  to  heaven.  The  day  came  when  that  fire  was 
extinguished.  But  the  fire  that  has  burned  for  nearly  a 
thousand  years  upon  the  altar  of  Ireland's  nationality, — fed 
with  the  people's  hopes,  fed  with  the  people's  prayers, — that 
fire  has  never  been  extinguished,  even  though  torrents  of 
the  nation's  blood  were  poured  out  upon  it ; — that  fire  bums 
to-day  ;  and  that  fire  will  yet  illumine  Ireland. 

I  will  conclude  with  one  word.  Even  as  King  Lir's  lonely 
daughter,  Fionnuala,  sighed  for  the  beaming  of  the  day-star, 
so  do  I  sigh.  When  shall  that  day-star  of  freedom,  mildly 
springing,  light  and  warm  our  isle  with  peace  and  love! 
When  shall  the  bell  of  sacred  liberty  ringing,  call  every  Irish 
heart  from  out  the  grave  of  slavery, — from  out  the  long, 
miserable  night  of  servitude, — to  walk  in  the  full  blaze  of 
our  national  freedom  and  our  national  glory !  Oh !  may  it 
come.  Oh,  God  !  make  our  cause  Thy  cause  !  I  speak  as  a 
priest  as  well  as  an  Irishman; — I  claim  in  my  prayer  to 
that  God  to  whom  my  people  have  been  so  faithful,  to  give 
us  not  only  that  crown  of  eternity  to  which  we  look  forward 
in  the  Christian's  hope, — but,  oh !  to  give  us,  in  His  justice, 
that  crown  of  national  liberty  and  glory  to  which  we  have 
established  our  right  by  so  many  ages  of  fidelity. 


ST.  LAUEENCE  O'TOOLE. 

{Lecture  ddivered  by  the  Very  Hev.  T.  N.  Burke^  0.  P.,  in  the 
BrooJdyn  Academy  of  Music^  Wednesday  Evening^  September  18tA, 
1872.) 

My  Friends  :  Coming  over  to  Brooklyn  this  evening,  I 
confess  I  did  not  expect  to  find  so  large  a  house  as  this 
which  I  now  have  the  honor  of  addressing.  I  thought  to 
myself  that,  perhaps,  the  subject  might  not  be  sufficiently 
interestiDg  to  many  amongst  you;  for  in  this  nineteenth 
century  of  ours,  saints  are  rather  out  of  fashion,  and  people 
do  not  take  much  interest  in  them.  But  your  presence  here, 
i6  such  numbei*s,  this  evening,  cheers  me,  and  gives  me 
another  argument,  if  such  were  necessary,  to  be  proud  of  my 
fellow  countrymen  and  countrywomen,  who  find,  amidst  the 
varied  attractions  of  these  two  great  cities  in  which  they 
live,  nothing  more  attractive  to  bring  them  together  than  the 
record  of  a  saint  of  the  Catholic  Chinch, — as  true  a  saint  and 
as  true  a  patriot  as  ever  the  Island  of  Saints  and  of  martyrs 
produced. 

I  have  had,  before  now,  the  honor  to  address  you  in  this 
hall ;  but  never,  either  here  or  elsewhere,  have  I  been  fur- 
nished with  a  nobler  theme  than  that  upon  which  I  propose 
to  speak  to  you  this  evening.  It  comes  home,  my  friends,  to 
your  hearts  and  to  mine ;  for  there  are  two  blessings  for 
which  we  all  thank  God.  The  first  of  these  is  the  blessing 
of  that  Catholic  faith  in  which  we  live  and  which  we  enjoy ; 
and  the  second  is  the  blessing  of  that  Irish  blood  which  flows 
in  our  veins  and  throbs  around  our  hearts.  When,  there- 
fore, I  mention  to  you  the  name  of  Laurence  O'Toole,  the 
last  canonized  saint  of  Ireland's  children,  I  name  one  of  the 
grandest  figures  that  rises  up  registered  upon  the  annals  of 
the  Catholic  Church,  and  one  of  the  grandest  figures  that 
passes  before  the  historian's  eye  when  he  contemplates  the 
gi'eat  men  and  the  great  glories  that  make  up  the  history  of 
Ireland.  Interesting  to  you  as  Catholics,  I  shall  endeavor 
to  describe  the  saint ;  interesting  to  you  as  Irishmen,  I  shall 


118  IRELAND  AND  THE  IHISK 

endeavor  to  describe  the  patriot ;  and  I  shall  invite  you  to 
reflect  upon  the  great  lesson  that  this  man's  name  and  his- 
tory teach  us,  namely ;  that  the  highest  sanctity,  upon  which 
the  Catholic  Church  sets  the  crown  of  her  canonization,  is 
compatible  with  the  purest  and  strongest  love  of  fatherland ; 
and  that  the  Catholic  Church  never  refuses  to  crown  the  pa- 
triot in  the  saint,  and  the  saint  in  the  patriot. 

The  subject  will,  necessarily,  oblige  me  to  touch  upon  the 
most  lamentable  and  dolorous  part  of  our  history.  The  liis- 
torical  muse,  in  tracing  the  record  of  other  nations,  writes 
with  a  pen  dipped  in  characters  of  gold ;  the  historical  muse, 
in  writing  the  history  of  Ireland,  dips  her  pen  in  teara  and 
in  blood.  Laurence  O'Toole  lived  in  the  day  that  witnessed 
his  country's  downfall;  and  he  went  down  to  his  grave  a 
young  man, — only  forty-five  years  of  age.  The  physicians 
could  not  tell  what  was  the  malady  that  terminated  that  glo- 
rious life;  but  his  Irish  attendants,  who  surrounded  his 
death-bed,  in  a  foreign  land,  said  to  each  other  that  he  died 
of  a  broken  heart.  In  his  veins  flowed  the  blood  of  Ireland's 
royalty.  It  may  be  new  to  some  of  you, — to  many  amongst 
.  you  I  am  sure  it  is  no  novelty, — to  tell  you  that  the  ancient 
form  of  government  in  Ireland  subdivided  the  Island  into 
four  distinct  kingdoms,  and  that  the  ancient  DTie<vc<vTi)<vTl 
or  Celtic  Constitution,  recognized  one  (supreme  monarch, 
elected  at  stated  periods  to  govern  all.  These  kingdoms 
were  Ulster,  Leinster,  Connaught,  and  Munster;  and  al- 
though each  province  was  governed  by  its  own  chief  or  ruler, 
the  king, — still,  under  these  again  there  were  several  inde- 
pendent chiefs  or  petty  sovereigns,  who  governed  the  power- 
ful clans  into  which  the  nation  was  divided.  The  beautiful 
mountains  and  glens  of  Wicklow,  which  the  traveller  of  to- 
day loves  to  visit,  and  where  he  beholds  scenery  as  lovely 
in  its  pastoral  beauty  as  any  he  can  find  upon  the  earth's 
surface, — this  beautiful  land  of  Wicklow  was  subject  to  a 
chieftain  of  the  name  of  0'B3rrne, — in  possession  of  his  sept 
or  clan,  who  were  all  men  of  his  own  name.  Even  to  this 
day,  after  more  than  a  thousand  years,  a  few  of  the  name  of 
O'Byme  still  hold  freehold  property  in  Wicklow.  Never 
will  I  forget  how,  in  one  of  my  trips  on  foot  through  that  ro- 
mantic land,  a  man  working  in  the  field  was  pointed  out  to 
liie,  as  the  last  lineal  descendant  of  the  ancient  sept,  or  clan  of 
O'Byme,  who  once  ruled  &D.d  possessed  the  county  of  Wick- 


BT,  LAURENCE  OfOOLE.  119 

low.  I  went  over  to  speak  to  him.  He  was  eighty-six  years 
of  age,  tall,  erect,  majestic ;  his  hair,  white  as  silver,  and 
combed  back,  fell  in  venerable  locks  upon  his  shoulders  ;  his 
blue  eye  still  retained  somewhat  of  the  chieftain's  fire  of  the 
ages  long  past ;  and  at  the  age  of  eighty -six,  he  was  doing  a 
hard  day's  work,  suited  to  a  young  and  able-bodied  man. 
But  he  had  a  privilege  rare  to  the  Irish  peasant ; — ho  war 
digging  his  own  soil, — the  land  that  belonged  to  himsel£ 
He  leant  upon  his  spade,  when  I  spoke  to  him.  I  asked 
him  his  name.  Drawing  himself  up  to  his  full  height, — 
which  was  considerably  more  than  six  feet, — he  answered 
like  a  hero :  "  My  name  is  O'Byrne ;  and  I  am  the  last  of 
them."  "  Of  whom,"  I  said,  "  do  you  rent  your  land  ?  " 
**  This  little  spot,"  he  answered,  "  into  which  I  send  this 
spade,  was  my  father's  before  me ;  was  his  father's  before 
him ;  and  so  on,  until  we  go  up  to  the  time  when  the  chief 
of  the  O'Bymes  sat  upon  his  chair  in  the  Hall  of  Tara,  and 
heard  from  Patrick's  lips  the  Gospel  of  Christ."  The  sim- 
ple, poorly-clad,  royal  peasant,  in  a  few  words,  flung  back 
his  ancestry  and  genealogy  through  generations  qf  heroes, 
until  he  reached  the  fountain-head  of  Ireland's  religion  and 
Ireland's  history.  Where  is  there  a  nation  on  the  face  of 
the  earth,  where  the  peasant,  laboring  in  the  field,  can  make 
such  answer  to  the  casual  inquirer,  and  tell  of  ancestors  who 
wore  royal  crowns  fifteen  hundred  years  ago  ? 

Adjoining  the  possessions  of  these  clans,  and  the  moun- 
tains of  Wicklow,  lay,  suiTounding  them,  the  fertile  plains  of 
historic  Kildare.  The  traveller  threading  down  his  way 
from  the  summits  of  the  mountain  of  Kippure — called  in 
the  Irish  language  Ce<vi)i)  b^i)  or  "  White  Head,"  because  of 
the  snow  which  almost  perpetually  rests  upon  its  summit, — 
beholds  before  him  the  verdant  plains  of  Kildare,  in  slightly 
swelling,  undulating  hill  and  dale, — the  richest  land  in  Ire- 
land, save  and  except  the  "  Golden)  Vale  "  of  glorious  Tip- 
perary.  Through  this  beautiful  plain,  winding  in  and  out, 
he  sees,  like  a  thread  of  silver,  the  river  Liffey,  from  its 
lising  in  the  mountains  of  Wicklow,  until,  after  many  wind- 
ings and  mui-murings,  it  passes  through  the  glens  and  the 
romantic  scenery  of  Poid-na-Phouca,  finds  its  way  to  the 
city  of  Dublin,  and  mingles  with  the  sea  where  it  was  red- 
dened by  the  blood  and  covered  with  the  corpses  of  the  Dan- 
ish iny&derB,  when  the  sword  of  Ireland  gleamed  in  the 


120  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

hand  of .  Briaiv  Boroimhe.  These  plains  of  Kildare  were 
owned  by  an  Irish  chieftain  named  O'Toole ;  and,  as  his 
territories  lay  adjoining  the  septs  of  Wicklow,  it  happened 
that,  early  in  the  twelfth  century,  about  the  year  1100, 
Maurice  O'Toole,  prince  of  Kildare,  took  as  his  wife  a  prin- 
cess of  the  house  of  O'Byrne,  of  Wicklow.  God  blessed 
their  union  with  many  children ;  and  amongst  them  a  fair 
child  was  born  to  the  Kildare  chieftain ;  and  by  Divine  inspi- 
ration, revealed  by  a  man  of  God, — a  holy  man  that  travelled 
through  the  land, — the  child,  at  the  baptismal  font,  received 
the  name  of  Laurence,  or,  as  it  is  in  the  Irish  language, 
LofiCiVT).  He  was  baptized  before  the  shiine  of  St.  Bridget, 
in  Kildare.  He  was  born  in  his  father's  palace,  near  the  spot 
whereon  now  stands  the  town  of  Castledermot.  In  accord- 
ance with  the  tradition  of  his  royal  family  he  was  sent  to 
the  shrine  of  Ireland's  first  great  virgin-saint.  There  he  re- 
ceived the  sign  of  his  Christianity — his  Christian  name  and 
his  adoption  into  the  children  of  God.  Thence,  taken  once 
more  to  his  father's  house,  the  child  was  reared  there  by  his 
Irish  mother,  drawing  from  her  breasts  the  piire,  untainted, 
maternal  nourishment  that  the  mothers  of  Ireland  have  given 
to  so  many  holy  priests  and  bishops  of  the  Church  of  God, 
that  have  sprung  from  them  for  fifteen  hundred  years. 
Never  from  that  mother's  lips  did  he  hear  a  word  save  what 
might  form  his  young  spirit — his  young  heart — in  the  love 
of  Christ,  his  Lord.  Never  did  he  see  under  that  mother's 
roof  a  sight  that  might  for  an  instant  taint  or  sully  his 
young  virgin  soul.  So,  he  grew  up  under  that  mother's 
hand,  even,  with  reverence  be  it  said,  as  the  child  of  Nazar- 
eth grew  under  the  hand  of  His  Virgin  Mother,  Mary  ;  until, 
when  he  was  ten  years  old,  the  young  Laurence  was  the  de- 
light of  his  father's  house,  the  joy  of  that  Irish  father's 
heart,  and  the  very  idol  of  his  pure  and  holy  mother's 
bosom. 

When  the  child  was  ten  years  old,  a  scene  occurred,  alas! 
too  frequent  in  the  history,  of  Ireland  !  War  was  declared 
against  Prince  Maurice  O'Toole,  of  Kildare.  His  territories 
were  invaded ;  his  people  were  put  to  the  sword ;  his  royal 
palace  destroyed ;  and  he  was  obliged  to  fly  with  his  princess 
wife  and  her  child.  The  invader  was  no. other  than  the 
thrice  accursed  Dermot  MacMurrogh,  the  traitor  that  sold 
Ireland.     He  was  the  King  of  Leinster,  born  in  an  hour 


8T.  LAXmENGE  QTOOLE,  121 

accursed  of  God  and  of  the  genius  of  Irish  history.  He  was 
that  Dermot  MacMurrogh  who  stole  away  iJie  wife  of 
O'Ruark,  prince  of  Brefni.  And,  when  Ireland  arose,  like 
one  man,  and  declared  that  no  adulterer  should  be  allowed 
to  live  in  the  Island  of  Saints,  he  was  that  Dermot  Mac- 
Murrogh, who  fled  over  to  England,  kneeled  down  before 
Henry  II.,  isind  asked  him  to  help  him  in  Ireland,  and  he 
would  lay  his  country  enslaved  and  enchained  at  his  feet. 
MacMuiTOgh  invaded  the  glens  of  Wicklow  and  the  plains 
of  Kildare  in  the  year  1142.  The  Prince  Maurice,  unable 
to  contend  against  so  powerful  ,an  enemy,  was  obliged  to 
come  to  terms  of  peace  with  him ;  and  the  very  first  thing 
that  the  accursed  Dermot  MacMurrogh  asked  ?  was  that  he 
should  obtain  possession  of  the  young  child  Laurence,  to  be 
held  by  him  as  a  hostage  for  his  father.  The  child  of  ten 
yeai-s, — the  child  who  had  never  seen  evil, — ^the  child  covered 
with  the  blessings  of  God,  was  handed  over  into  the  hands 
of  the  King  of  Leinster,  to  be  treated  by  him  as  became  his 
lineage  and  degree  as  a  royal  prince.  For  two  years  he  re- 
mained in  that  captivity  ;  and  history  tells  us  that  no  sooner 
had  MacMurrogh  got  hold  of  the  yo^ng  prince  of  the  house 
of  O'Toole,  than  he  sent  him  into  a  desert  part  of  his  king- 
dom. The  child  was  only  allowed  as  much  food  as  would 
keep  him  alive ;  only  allowed  a  covering  of  rags  sufficient 
to  keep  life  in  him ;  and  for  two  years  the  young  prince  lived 
the  life  of  a  slave.  It  seemed  as  if  he  who  was  to  be  the  last 
great  saint  of  Irish  blood  was  to  go  through  the  same  pro- 
bation of  suffering  which  the  Almighty  God  permitted  to  fall 
upon  Patrick,  the  first  great  saint  of  Ireland's  adoption. 

Two  years  were  thus  spent  in  misery  and  slavery ;  two 
years  in  starvation,  cold  and  want ;  and  during  these  two 
years,  the  child  learned,  in  the  school  of  sorrow  and  suffering, 
to  despise  the  world ;  to  despise  his  royal  dignity  and  Ms 
royal  name ;  to  despise  everything  except  two  things ;  and 
these  two  things  he  learned  to  love, — ^namely,  his  God  and 
his  country.  Oh  !  my  friends,  it  is  not  prosperity  that 
teaches  a  man  the  true,  deep  love  either  of  his  God  or  of  his 
fatherland.  *  The  test  of  this  twofold  love  is  suffering.  The  . 
Church  honors  her  martyrs,  because  they  suffered  for  her ; 
and  I  honor  the  man, — I  do  not  care  how  different  his 
views  are  from  mine ; — I  do  not  care  how  mistaken,  how 
rash  he  may  have  been ; — ^I  honor,  from  my  inmost  soiU,  the 
6 


122 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


man  that  has  shown  his  love  for  hig  native  land,  by  suffering 
in  her  cause. 

Meantime,  word  was  brought,  to  Prince  Maurice,  the 
father,  of  the  treatment  his  son  was  receiving.  And,  now, 
mark  here  again, — for,  remember,  that,  this  evening,  I  am 
not  come  so  much  to  speak  of  this  saintly  man  as  an  indi- 
vidual ;  I  am  come  to  speak  of  him  with  all  his  surround- 
ings, all  his  associations,  as  the  very  epitome  and  essence  of 
Irish  genius,  Irish  character,  and  Irish  history ; — no  sooner 
did  the  Irish  father  hear  of  the  sufferings  6i  his  son,  than 
he  rose  up,  unprepared  as  he  was, — unfit  to  make  war 
against  his  powerful  adversary, — he  rose  up.;  he  drew  his 
sword  ;  he  rallied  the  men  of  his  name  around  him ;  and  he 
declared  war  against  Dermot,  king  of  Leinster,  for  the  re- 
covery of  the  young  prince.  The  Irish  father  went  out 
like  a  man ;  went  out  from  the  embrace  of  his  pure  Irish 
wife ;  went  out  with  his  soul  in  his  hands,  to  stake  his  life, 
in  the  day  he  drew  his  sword,  for  his  child.  He  was  not 
one  of  those  forgetful  of  his  own  offspring,  heedless  of  the 
education  they  receive,  not  caring  for  their  suffering, — pro-!- 
vided  he  himself  enjoyed  his  own  bread  and  his  own  peace. 
No  !  He  was  an  Irish  father.  He  was  what  Ireland's  fathers 
and  mothers  have  been  in  every  age  of  her  chequered  and 
sorrowful  history.  He  was  prepared  to  lay  down  his  life, — 
to  sacrifice  himself  and  shed  his  blood, — rather  than  suffer 
his  young  child  to  be  brought  up  in  ignorance,  in  misery, 
and  in  sin.  He  forced  the  unwilling  tyrant  to  restore  to 
him  his  boy.  The  graceful,  beautiful  child  appeared  before 
his  father's  eyes.  He  was  led  to  that  home  blessed  by  his 
loving  mother.  Oh !  how  changed  from  the  darling  child  who, 
two  years  before,  had  won  every  heart,  in  all  the  grace,  in 
all  the  beauty,  in  all  the  comeliness  of  a  young  prince, 
arrayed  as  became  his  dignity,  with  every  sign  of  the  ten- 
derest  care  and  the  most  zealous  guardianship  around  him. 
How  did  they  find  him  ?  Grown,  through  misery,  beyond 
his  years,  he  had  attained  almost  to  the  stature  of  a  man, 
with  all  the  signs  of  suffering — the  signs  of  emaciation,  of 
misery  and  of  hunger  upon  him ;  his  eyes  sunken  in  his 
head ;  his  pallid  face  expressing  only  all  the  trials  he  had 
gone  through  ;  his  head  bowed  down,  as  that  of  a  man  old 
before  his  time ;  his  beautiful  figure  all  wasted  away  to  a 
mere  anatomy  of  man,  and  clad  m  unprincely  rags.     So  he 


m":  ZAVItENVE  aTOOLE.  123 

appeared  to  tbei^.  But  the  Irish  father,  who  was  a  man  of 
faith,  disc^med  the  inner  beauty  that  had  come  upon  his 
son, — recognized  in  his  dear  son  the  sign  of  predestination, 
-^the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Accordingly,  he 
took  him  to  the  Abbey  of  Glendalough ; '  and  there  he  con- 
signed him  to  the  care  of  the  Bishop  of  that  ancient  see. 
Let  me  say  a  word  about  this  place  whither  the  young  man 
went  to  enter  upon  his  studies  at  twelve  years  of  age. 

High  up  in  the  heart  of  the  hills  of  Wicklow,  surrounded 
by  those  towering  mountains  that  throw  their  shapes  in  fan- 
tastic forms,  far  up  into  the  clouds ;  high  up  in  the  heart  of 
these  hills,  there  is  a  valley  enclosing  a  deep  lake  surrounded 
by  beetling  rocks.  There,  upon  the  borders  of  that  lake, 
there  still  remain  an  ancient  round  tower  and  the  ruins  of 
seven  churches:  nothing  more.  Silence  reigns  around. 
No  voice  is  heard  save  the  voice  of  the  singing  bird  upon 
the  hawthorn  tree,  or  the  bleating  of  the  cattle  on  the  sides 
of  the  distant  hills ;  but  there  was  a  time  when,  for  many 
ages,  that  deep  valley  resounded  to  the  voice  of  praise,  from 
the  morning  watch  even  until  night,  and  from  the  setting  of 
the  sun  until  the  stars  fled  before  his  coming  splendor  in 
the  East.  Morning  and  night ;  at  the  midnight  hour ;  at 
the  rising  of  the  sUn ;  at  the  proclaiming  of  high-noon ;  at 
the  sinking  of  the  orb  of  day  to  his  golden  home  in  the 
West,— every  hour  was  marked  by  the  voice  of  praise,  of 
benediction  and  of  prayer,  sounding  forth  from  hundreds  of 
Irish  lips  and  Irish  bosoms,  in  those  happy  days,  when  the 
glens  and  valleys  of  the  surrounding  hiUs  were  filled  with 
the  monks  of  old,  and  when,  from  the  choirs  of  Glenda- 
lough,— ^numbering  from  five  hundred  do  eight  hundred 
monks, — the  voice  of  praise  was  never  silent  upon  the  lips 
of  the  servants  of  God.  They  dwelt  in  iheir  little  cells, 
each  man  living  in  a  little  hut,  made  by  his  own  hands, 
upon  the  mountain  sides  around.  They  came  forth  at 
stated  times  to  public  prayer  in  some  one  or  other  of  the 
seven  churches.  They  were  all  skilled  musicians ;  for,  as 
the  ancient  chronicler  of  Ireland's  monasticism  tells  us, 
"  It  is  a  poor  church,  indeed,-  that  is  without  a  choir." 
They  were  skilled  musicians;  and,  therefore,  as  one  group 
finished  their  utterances  in  the  Divine  offices  of  praise  to . 
God,  there  was  another  ready  to  take  up  the  note  and  per- 
petuate the  glorious  song  of  praise,     ^e  rest  of  the  time 


124: 


IRELAMD  AND  THE  IRISH. 


not  given  to  prayer  was  spent  in  study ;  for  the  solitaries  of 
Glendalough  were  ncrt  only  the  holiest  of  men,  but  were 
also  the  most  learned  men  in  the  world,  for  three  hundred 
years ;  and,  during  that  time,  gained  for  Ireland,  amongst 
the  nations,  the  singular  title  of  the  "  mother  of  saints  and 
of  scholars."  The  founder  of  this  famous  seat  of  anchorites 
was  the  great  monastic  father,  St.  Kevin ;  and  the  place 
where  he  retired  to  study  and  to  pray  is  still  pointed  out, — 
one  of  the  caves  imbedded  high  up  in  the  face  of  the  moun- 
tains, amid  the  poplar  forests.  And  the  traditions  of  holi- 
ness and  learning  which  St.  Kevin  established  were  perpet- 
uated in  Glendalough,  not  only  for  the  three  hundred  years 
of  Ireland's  first  Christianity,  but  actually  outlived  the 
ravages  of  the  three  hundred  years  of  Danish  invasion  and 
bloodshed  and  war.  The  land  was  desolated ;  but  Glenda- 
lough flourished.  The  cathedral  was  in  ruins ;  but  the  choir 
of  Glendalough  was  vocal  as  before.  The  scholar  and  stu- 
dent fled  from  every  sacred  receptacle  in  the  land ;  but  the 
monks  of  Glendalough,  even  in  the  darkest  hour  of  the  Dan- 
ish war,  still  upheld  the  glorious  purity  of  Ireland's  learning 
and  Ireland's  holiness.  And  thus,  for  five  hundred  years, 
that  valley  in  the  heart  of  the  Wicklow  hills  was  the  home ' 
of  the  servants  of  God,  and  resounded  to  His  perpetual 
praise.  So  great  was  the  importance  of  this  monastic  seat, 
that  it  was  ^erected  into  an  Episcopal  See ;  and  there  was  a 
Bishop  of  Glendalough. 

Now  it  was  to  this  man  that  Maurice  O'Toole  brought  his 
child  of  twelve  years  old.  He  had,  besides  him,  several 
other  sons,  tall,  strapping,  brave  and  pious  Irish  youths,  full 
of  love  for  Ireland :  full  of  love  for  its  ancient,  glorious 
history ;  full  of  love  for  their  honored,  royal  name ;  full  of 
love, — as  every  true  Irishman  shall  be  until  the  end  of  time, 
— full  of  love  for  their  holy  religion  and  for  the  Catholic 
Church  of  Ireland.  These  young  princes  came  with  their 
father  to  Glendalough ;  and,  as  all  stood  around  the  Bishop, 
the  warrior  prince  said  to  him:  "My  Lord,  here  are  my 
sons.  I  want  to  give  one  of  them  to  God.  They  are  all 
willing ;  and  I  must  cast  lots  to  find  which  of  them  the  Lord 
will  choose  for  His  own  service  in  the  sacerdotal  state." 
While  the  father  was  deliberating,  out  stepped  the  young 
but  chastened  and  sanctified  Laurence.  "  Oh,  father  !  "  he 
said,  "  the  lot  is  already  cast  in  Heaven;  and  it  has  fallen 


ST.  LAURENCE  OTOOLE.  '  125  ' 

upon  me.  I,  Laurence,  belong  to  God,  and  to  Him  alone. 
I  have  known  His  support  in  the  days  of  my  misery  and  my 
exile.  I  have  fed  upon  His  love  in  the  days  of  my  wretched- 
ness and  my  hunger.  I  have  separated  my  heart  from  all 
other  love,  save  that  of  my  God  in  Heaven  and  my  fellow- 
countrymen  upon  the  earth.  To  that  God  and  to  Ireland 
will  I  devote  myself.  Let  me  be  the  Priest."  And,  my 
friends,  right  weU  did  he  express,  in  this  determination,  and 
in  this  choice,  the  true  love  of  a  true-hearted  man, — for  God 
and  for  his  country.  Let  no  man  deceive  you :  the  best 
lover  of  God  and  of  his  country  is  the  Priest, — the  mai^who 
in  the  days  of  his  youth,  in  the  days  of  his  awakening  pas- 
sions, in  the  davs  when  nature  makes  her  loud^emand  for 
enjoyment, — the  man  who  then  says,  "  I  will  sacrifice  my 
heart,  my  afiections,  my  life,  my  body,  and  my  soul," — for 
whom  ?  Eor  God  alone  ?  No ;  for  he  does  not  go  into  the 
desert ;  he  goes  out  amongst  his  fellow-men ;  he  grasps  every 
man  by  the  hand  with  a  loving  grasp ;  and  he  says,  "  I  be- 
long to  God  and  to  yow."  No  man  is  so  consecrated  to  his 
fellow-men  as  the  Priest ;  because  he  comes  to  them  with  a 
consecration  from  God.  There  is  no  man  upon  whom  the 
people  can  fall  back,  as  they  can  upon  the  Priest ;  for  no 
matter  what  angel  of  pestilence  may  stalk  in  the  midst  of 
them, — no  matter  what  demon  may  scatter  death  or  destruc- 
tion around  them, — every  man  may  fly;  the* Priest  alone 
must  not,  dare  not,  cannot  fly,  because  he  is  vowed  to  God  and 
to  his  neighbor.  In  the  day,  therefore,  that  the  young 
prince  said,  "I  renounce  my  principality;  I  renounce  the 
prospect  of  reigning  amongst  my  people ;  I  renounce  the 
glory  of  the  battle,  the  praise  of  the  minstrel,  and  the  luxury 
of  the  palace ;  all  I  ask  is  the  hut  upon  the  mountain  side 
in  Glendalough, — my  God  above  me,  and  my  country  around 
me ; " — in  the  day  that  he  said  that,  he  gave  proof  that, 
amongst  the  sons  of  the  Kildare  chieftain,  there  was  not  one 
that  loved  his  God  and  Ireland  as  he  did.  How  well  that 
love  was  tested,  we  shall  see. 

The  father,  like  an  Irish  father,  gave  up,  willingly,  the 
son  whom  he  loved  best  of  all ;  for  it  is  the  peculiarity  of 
Irish  parents  to  give  to  God  the  best  that  they  have,  and  to 
give  it  cheerfully ;  because  "  God  loveth  the  cheerful  giver." 
I  have  seen  in  other  lands — in  France  and  Italy, — young 
men  asking  to  be  admitted  to  the  priesthood,  and  the  father 


126 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


and  mother  saying,  "  How  can  we  give  him  up  ?  How  6an 
we  sacrifice  our  child  ?  " — trying  to  keep  him  back,  with 
tears  and  entreaties.  Oh,  my  friends  I  when  I  witnessed 
that,  I  thought  of  the  old  woman,  in  Oalway,  who  had  no 
one  but  me, — her  only  son :  I  thought  of  the  old  man,  bend- 
ing down  towards  the  grave,  with  the  wei^t  of  years  upon 
him ;  I  thought  of  the  poverty  that  might  stare  them  in  the 
face  when  their  only  boy  was  gone ;  and  yet  no  tear  was  shed ; 
no  word  of  sorrow  was  uttered ;  but,  with  joy  and  with  pride, 
the  Irish  father  and  the  Irish  mother  knew  how  to  give  up 
thei^  only  son  to  the  God  that  made  him. 

Laurence  bade  adieu  to  his  father  and  brothers.  They 
bent  their  ^teps  down  the  slopes  of  the  neighboring  hills, 
unto  their  own  principality;  and  he  took  possession  of  the 
monk's  cell,  at  Glendalough.  For  thirteen  years  he  re- 
mained, a  model  of  the  most  exalted  sanctity,  even  to  the 
aged  ones  who  were  versed  in  sanctity.  They  knew  what 
was  demanded  of  the  monk  and  the  consecrated  Priest ;  they 
knew  by  old-time  experience — the  experience  of  years, — how 
complete  the  sacrifice  of  the  heart  must  be.  But  the  pres- 
ence of  the  young  prince  amongst  them,  as  he  came  forth  in 
his  monastic  habit,  with  his  eyes  cast  to  the  ground,  and 
his  face  radiating  and  shining  with  the  love  of  God,  that, 
borne  forth  from  his  heart,  came  like  rays  from  the  bright- 
ness of  HeaVen  falling  in  light  around  him ; — they  saw  in 
that  holy  youth,  kneeling,  hour  after  hour,  before  the  pres- 
ence of  God,  upon  the  altar; — they  heard  in  that  voice, 
ringing  clear  and  high,  in  its  tones  of  praise,  above  and  be- 
yond the  chorus  of  voices  of  those  who  praised  the  Lord, 
as  if  it  were  an  angel  from  Heaven  in  the  midst  of  them 
striving  to  uplift  his  angelic  spirit,  totally  and  entirely,  upon 
the  wings  of  song ; — they  saw,  in  all  this  and  more,  an  ideal 
of  sanctity,  an  embodiment  of  holiness,  a  whole  pentecost  of 
love  of  God  such  as  they  had  never  conceived  before ;  and 
thev  all  declared  that  God  had  sent  them  a  saint  in  the 
young  Irish  prince.  Silent  as  the  grave,  he  spoke  only  with 
God  or  of  God.  Hour  after  hour,  spent  in  prayer  and  study, 
made  him  grow  in  every  knowledge  of  the  age,  even  as  he 
grew  in  divine  love.  His  food,  a  morsel  of  brown  bread, 
with  a  cup  of  water  from  the  lake ;  his  bed,  the  bare  earth ; 
his  pillow,  a  stone ; — ^he  mortified  his  body  unil  he  impressed 
upon  every  sense  and  upon  his  whole  frame  the  mortifica- 


BT,  LAURENCE  O TOOLE.  127 

tion  of  the  Cross  of  the  God  whom  he  learned  to  love.  And, 
so,  in  his  twentj-fifth  year,  Laurence, — the  monk  Laurence, 
— was  recognized  as  the  most  enlightened  and  the  most  holj 
man  in  the  Island,  which  still  claimed  the  title  of  the 
**  mother  of  saints  and  of  scholars." 

The  Abbot  died  and  the  young  monk  was  elected  Abbot 
of  Glendalough,  and  placed  at  the  head  of  his  brethren. 
There  he  remained  for  five  years ;  and  the  old  Lrish  chroni- 
clers tell  how  every  poor,  stricken  creature  in  the  land,  even 
to  the  farthest  ends  of  Ireland,  made  his  way  to  the  glens  of 
"Wicklow,  that  he  might  get  relief,  food,  and  clothing  from 
the  bounty  of  the  Abbot  Laurence,  and  the  blessing  of  God 
from  the  touch  of  his  sacred  hand.  We  are  told  thatj  while 
he  was  Abbot  of  Glendalough,  there  came,  through  the  visi- 
tation of  God,  a  terrible  famine  upon  the  land.  Laurence 
arose,  gathered  together  all  that  the  monasteries  possessed 
of  clothing  and  of  food ;  he  took  even  the  sacred  implements 
of  the  altar, — the  very  chalices  of  the  sacred  services ;  he 
opened  the  treasures  his  father  had  deposited  with  them ; 
away  went  everything  to  feed  and  clothe  the  poor  and  the 
naked.  So,  in  that  year  of  famine,  when  the  Angel  of  Death 
had  spread  himself  in  desolation  over  the  land,  the  people 
in  these  years  were  fed  and  clothed  and  saved  through  the 
wonderful  charity  of  the  Abbot  of  Glendalough.  O,  saint  in 
Heaven  !  where  wert  thou  in  '46  and  '47  !  O,  Irish  heart  I 
O,  Irish  sainted  soul !  where  were  thy  hands  I  Why  didst 
thou  not  burst  the  cerements  of  the  tomb,  and  rise  out  of 
thy  far  distant  grave  in  Normandy,  to  break  bread  for  thy 
countrymen  in  the  year  of  their  dire  trial  I  Alas  !  no  saint 
was  there  !  If  Glendalough  had  been,  the  people  would  not 
have  died.  But  Glendalough  was  swept  away,  and  the  in- 
fernal spirit  of  Henry  VIII.,  and  of  England's  supremacy, 
was  upon  the  land  to  let  us  perish. 

Now,  after  five  years  of  this  glorious  rule  of  the  Abbot 
of  Glendalough,  in  the  year  1161,  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin 
died.  The  people,  long  accustomed  to  the  sajieCity  and  the 
glory  of  their  great  Abbot  of  Glendalou^E^—^Iongf  "accustom- 
ed to  contemplate  the  shining  light  that  was  before  them  ; — 
all,  with  one  accord,  cried, — and  their  voice  rang  from  end 
to  end  of  the  land,^ — "  We  must  have  the  Prince  and  Abbot, 
Laurence,  for  our  Archbishop."  One  man  only  was  grieved ; 
one  man  only  refused ;  and  for  twelve  long  months  he  fought 


128 


IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRISH. 


against  this  dignity  sought  to  be  forced  upon  him,  with  so 
much  energy  and  success,  that  it  was  only  in  the  following 
year, — 1162, — that,  by  main  force,  he  was  obliged  to  allow 
himself  to  be  consecrated  Archbishop  of  Dublin.  Arch- 
bishop of  Dublin! — Laurence  O'Toole,  in  whose  veins 
blended  the  royal  blood  of  two  of  Ireland's  chief  houses ; 
Laurence  O'Toole,  was  the  last  man  of  the  Ldsh  race  who 
sat, — ^recognized, — upon  that  glorious  throne.  For,  seven 
hundred  years  have  passed  away ;  and  from  the  day  that 
St.  Laurence  died,  there  has  been  no  man  of  Irish  blood,  or 
Irish  race,  recognized  as  Archbishop  of  Dublin.  For  four 
hundred  years  after  the  death  of  St.  Laurence,  the  Arch- 
bishops were  Catholics ;  but  they  were  aiOlnglishmen.  For 
three  hundred  years  after  that, — for  the  last  three  hundred 
years,  the  Archbishops, — the  so-called  Archbishops  of  Dub- 
lin,— were  all  Protestants ;  and  they,  too,  were  all  English- 
men. 

Now,  my  friends,  we  come  to  contemplate  the  monk  in  the 
Archbishop.  He  entered  the  city  of  Dublin,  and  took  pos- 
session of  Christ  Church,  in  the  year  1162.  How  did  he 
find  his  people  ?  I  am  grieved  to  be  obliged  to  tell  the  tale. 
It  was  now  sixty  years  since  the  Danes  had  been  banished 
from  Ireland,  after  they  had  remained  in  the  country  for 
three  hundred  long  years.  During  these  three  hundred 
years,  there  never  had  been  a  day's  peace  throughout  the 
length  and  breadth  of  Ireland,  but  constant  war.  Every 
year  brought  its  campaign,  every  month — every  week — its 
pitched  battle,  between  the  soldiers  of  Ireland  and  the  Dan- 
ish invaders.  Let  this  sink  into  your  minds.  Consider  it 
well.  There  is  not  a  nation  on  the  face  of  the  earth  that  can 
stand  three  hundred  years  of  constant  war  without  being  de- 
stroyed. The  churches  are  burned,  the  priests  put  to  the 
sword ;  everything  is  in  confusion ;  the  sacraments  neglected, 
the  schools  shut  up.  A  people  compelled  to  fight  for  their 
lives  begin  to  forget  God  the  moment  the  demon  of  war 
^  comes  upon  them.  You  have  had  the  proof  of  it  in  the  four 
years'  war  from  which  you  have  just  come  forth.  Now  rea- 
lize all  this  if  you  can.  For  three  hundred  years, — a  term 
nearly  as  long  as  from  the  day  Columbus  discovered  America 
to  the  present  hour, — there  was  not  a  hill-side  nor  a  valley 
in  Ireland  that  did  not  resound,  year  after  year,  to  the  va- 
rious war-cries  of  fixQ  Dane  and  the  Celt.     Their  bodies  cov- 


8T,  LAUBENCE  G'TOOLE.  129 

ered  the  land ;  six  thousand  of  these  Danish  invaders  were 
left  dead  upon  the  field  in  the  glorious  day  when  Malachi 
the  Second  drew  the  sword  of  Ireland  and  smote  them  in  the 
valley  of  Glenamada,  near  the  Vale«of  Avoca.  The  sea 
around  the  coast  of  Ireland,  for  many  a  day  and  year  was 
covered  with  the  corpses,  and  the  rivers  ran  red  with  the 
blood  of  the  Celt  and  the  Dane.  Thus  it  was  for  three  hun- 
dred years.  What  wonder,  my  dear  friends, — what  wonder 
is  it,  that  the  history  of  our  land  tells  that,  by  the  time  Ire- 
land finally  conquered  her  Danish  enemies,  after  three  hun- 
dred yeai*s,  every  vestige  almost  of  holiness,  learning,  and 
piety  had  disappeared  from  the  land.  Nothing  remained  ex- 
cept the  faith  which  the  Irish  race  still  held  dear  as  their 
life,  and  that  love  for  Ireland  that  had  nerved  their  arms 
during  these  three  hundred  years  of  bloodshed  and  war.  But 
the  moment  that  the  Danish  invasion  was  ended,  and  that 
the  Irish  nation  breathed  freely  for  a  time,  that  moment  the 
ISishops  and  priests  and  the  people  put  head,  heart,  and  hands 
together,  to  build  up  the  ancient  edifice  of  Ireland's  learning 
and  Ireland's  sanctity.  It  is  a  well-known  fact,  that  al- 
though disorder,  confusion,  and  iniquity  had  crept  into  the 
land,  and  abounded, — that  neither  the  priesthood  nor  the 
people  reconciled  themselves  to  it;  but  immediately  upon 
the  departure  of  the  Danes,  set  to  work.  The  bishops  and 
priests  met  in  council ;  the  schools  and  the  colleges  were 
reopened ;  and  Ireland's  sanctity  and  holiness  was  fast  re- 
turning, at  the  very  time  that  St.  Laurence  O'Toole  took 
possession  of  the  See  of  Dublin.  Still  he  found  the  chief- 
tains of  Ireland  divided  amongst  themselves.  He  found 
every  province  in  the  land,  every  sept  or  clan  in  the  land, 
fighting  amongst  themselves  and  dispi^ting.  Not  content 
with  having  shed  their  blood  generously  for  Ireland,  during 
three  hundred  years,  they  would  now  fain  flood  the  land 
again  with  Irish  blood  shed  in  domestic  broils  and  conten- 
tions, unworthy  of  a  people  who  had  passed  through  such  an 
ordeal.  And  then,  moreover,  amongst  the  people  incorpo- 
rated in  his  own  city  of  Dublin,  the  marriage-tie  was  not 
sufficiently  regarded.  And  I  verily  believe  that  the  i-eason 
of  this  was  that  the  greater  part  of  the  people  of  Dublin,  at 
the  time,  were  descendants  of  the  Danes,  and  not  pure  Xrish ; 
for  I  can  scarcely  imagine  the  pure  stock  of  Ireland  renounc- 
ing, under  any  pressure,  the  virtue  with  which  the  Almighty 
6* 


130 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH, 


God  endowed  them  at  the  hands  of  Patrick,  both  men  and 
•women.  That  virtue — ^the  virtue  of  purity,  crowned  by  sac- 
ramental love,  and,  through  it  alone,  crowned  by  their  con- 
jugal fidelity — ^has  bfeen  the  first  and  grandest  boast  of  the 
Irish  race. 

Grieved  and  excited  to  indignation  by  what  he  beheld,  the 
solitary  from  Glendalough,  accustomed  to  silence,  retirement 
and  communion  with  God,  as  soon  as  he  came,  a  mitred 
Archbishop,  to  his  people,  ascended  the  pulpit  of  Christ 
Church,  in  Dublin;  and  there,  in  the  Irish  language, — so 
grand,  so  poetic,  so  vigorous  and  so  majestic  in  its  expres- 
sion,— he  hurled  his  denunciations  against  every  form  of  im- 
piety and  of  iniquity  around  him.  He  sent  forth  his  voice,  as 
a  prince  as  well  as  an  Archbishop,  unto  the  ends  of  the  land, 
and  said  to  the  chieftains  of  Ireland:  "Unless  you.  cease 
your  unworthy  contentions,  I  tell  you,  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord  God,  that  God  will  punish  this  bloodshed  and  this  uiu 
worthy  contention  by  sacnficing  the  liberty  of  your  country. 
Clear  and  terrific  was  the  voice.  Clear  as  the  angel's  trum- 
pet announcing  judgment,  the  voice  of  the  great  Irish  prince- 
archbishop  went  out  upon  the  land,  and  fell  upon  the  unfor- 
tunately heedless  and  unwilling  ears  of  the  Irish  chieftains. 
Their  dissensions  continued.  The  kings  of  Ulster,  retreat- 
ing into  their  own  dominions,  took  no  share  in  the  affairs  of 
the  rest  of  Ireland.  The  clans  of  Munster  made  war,  under 
the  leadership  of  the  O'Briens,  against  the  royal  house  of 
O'Conor,  in  Connaught ;  while  Ulster  itself  was  divided  by  a 
hundred  different  feuds  which  separated  the  whole  country 
into  so  many  battle-fields. 

Thus  was  Ireland  in  the  day  when  the  news  was  brought 
the  Archbishop  of  Dublin  that  the  Norman  forces  had  come 
upon  the  shores  of  Ireland ;  that  the  invader's  accursed  foot 
was  once  more  upon  the  soil  of  Erin.  It  came  to  him  as 
though  it  was  the  knell  of  his  own  doom ;  it  came  to  him  ai* 
though  it  was  the  judgment  of  God,  which  he  had  foreseen, 
for  the  sins  and  dissensions  of  his  own  people.  And  yet, 
even  thus  coming,  it  roused  within  him  all  the  zeal  of  the 
prelate,  and  all  the  fire  of  the  prince  of  Irish  royal  blood. 
It  r9used  the  lion  spirit  in  the  chaste  bosom  of  the  Arch- 
bishop ;  and  when  Laurence  came  forth  amongst  the  people, 
they  scarcely  knew  him.  There  seemed  to  be  a  new  spirit 
in  the  indignation  which  came  from  him.     The  eye  accu»- 


ST.  LAURENCE  Q TOOLE,  131 

tomed  to  be  cast  down  upon  the  earth,  with  virginal  mod- 
esty, now  glared  around  with  a  fiery  glance,  because  the  sar 
cred  cause  of  Ireland  was  in  danger,  and  the  invader  was 
upon  her  soil.  The  voice  that  was  accustomed  to  speak  only 
words  of  peace  and  benediction,  now  sounded  forth  in  its 
clarion  notes,  **  War !  War  I  Let  slip  the  spirit  and  the 
dogs  of  war  !  Draw  the  sword  of  Erin !  Let  your  blood 
flow  as  rivers  in  the  land,  until  the  accursed  and  detested 
invader  shall  be  driven  into  the  sea."  He  went  out  from 
Dublin:  he  left  his  city,  his  cathedral,  his  people  behind 
him;  he  went  straight  down  into  Connaught,  the  seat  of 
Ireland's  monarch ;  and  he  said,  "  Oh,  my  High  King,  arise ; 
gather  up  the  forces  of  Ireland,  and  march  with  me  to  Dub- 
lin. I  will  be  in  the  front  ranks  in  the  day  when  we  do  to 
the  invaders  what  Brian  did  upon  the  plain  of  Clontarf, 
when  he  swept  them  into  the  sea."  His  voice  went  out  in 
JJlster,  and  called  O'Melaghlin,  King  of  Ulster,  from  his  ig- 
noble repose,  to  arise,  gird  on  his  sword,  and  draw  it  for 
Ireland.  His  voice  penetrated  into  the  South,  re-echoed 
upon  the  shores  of  the  Shannon,  and  swept  like  a  trumpet- 
blast  through  the  ruined  halls  of  Kincora,  rousing  the  Mc- 
Carthy Mor  and  the  O'Brien.  They  rallied ;  they  came  to- 
gether ;  they  stood  between  the  Norman  and  the  walls  of 
Dublin,  the  Archbishop  in  the  midst  of  them.  But,  with 
all  his  power,  with  all  his  love  of  country,  with  all  his 
spirit  of  devotion,  he  was  unable  to  keep  them  together. 
Domestic  feuds  and  dissensions  sprang  up  amongst  them. 
Oh !  the  accursed  spirit  of  dissension,  that  has  kept  us  di- 
vided for  so  many  years,  and  that  keeps  us  divided  to-day ! 
We  have  heard  of  v/nited  Ireland  ;  we  have  heard  of  those 
brave  hearts  who  took  that  name;  but  when  were  Irish- 
men united  ?  The  very  last  time  that  Irishmen  were  united 
was  on  that  Good-Friday  morning,  eight  hundred  years  ago, 
when  the  plain  of  Clontarf  was  covered  with  the  dead  bodies 
of  the  Danes,  and  when  Dublin  Bay  was  filled  with  their 
floating  corpses.  From  that  day  to  this,  our  Tinited  Ireland 
is  but  the  dream  of  the  poet  and  the  inspiration  of  the  lover 
of  his  native  land. 

Dublin  was  taken.  Roderic  O'Conor,  King  of  Connaught, 
retift-ed  into  his  own  kingdom ;  the  Ulster  men  went  home 
across  the  Boyne;  the  septs  of  Leinster  were  obliged  to 
make  their  submission.     Two  or  three  years  later,  the  Eng- 


132  IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRISH. 

lish  monarch  himself  arrived ;  and  every  prince  in  Ireland 
made  a  nominal  submission  to  him,  save  and  except  the  glo- 
rious, the  immortal  O'Neil,  who  still  upheld  the  oriflamme 
of  Ireland — the  national  flag  of  Erin.  When  Dublin  was 
taken,  the  Archbishop  Laurence  interceded  for  his  peo- 
ple in  this  fashion:  When  the  Normans  laid  siege  to  the 
city  the  first  time,  the  people  felt  that  resistance  would  be 
useless ;  so  they  called  on  their  Archbishop  to  go  out  and 
m.eet  Dermot  MacMiirrogh,  the  adulterous  traitor,  and  the 
celebrated  Richard,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  surnamed  "  Strong- 
bow."  The  Archbishop  went  out  to  make  terms  for  his 
people ;  and  whilst  he  was  thus  engaged,  on  one  side  of  the 
city.  Miles  de  Cogan  entered  the  city  on  the  other  side  and 
began  to  slaughter  the  people.  Their  cry  of  horror  reached 
the  Archbishop's  ears  as  he  stood  in  the  presence  of  the  Nor- 
man victors.  The  moment  he  heard  the  cry  of  his  people, 
which  resounded  in  his  ears  as  the  cry  of  the  first-born  babe 
in  danger  resounds  in  the  heart  of  the  mother  that  bore  it, 
he  fled  from  their  presence  and  rushed  forth,. and  found  that 
the  blood  of  his  people  actually  flowed  in  the  streets  of  the 
city.  Then,  forgetful  of  his  safety  or  his  life,  he  threw  him- 
self between  them  and  the  assailing  army,  and  to  the 
invaders  he  said :  "  Hold  !  hold !  Not  another  son  of  Ire- 
land shall  be  slain ;  not  another  drop  of  my  people's  blood 
shall  be  shed  until  you  have  first  pierced  my  heart ;  for  I 
am  their  father  and  their  bishop." 

The  city  was  surrendered.  Now,  what  did  the  Arch- 
bishop do?  Did  he  give  up  the  cause  of  Ireland,  like  a 
faint-hearted  man  ?  He  saw  the  Irish  kings  actually  fight- 
ing with  each  other, — shedding  each  other's  blood  at  the 
very  time  the  invader  took  possession  of  their  capital.  He 
saw  that  no  two  of  them  could  agree  to  obey  one  common 
head,  or  adopt  one  common  line  of  policy.  He  had  labored 
in  vain.*  Did  he  give  up  the  cause?  No  I  No  faithful 
Irish  bishop  or  priest  ever  did  or  ever  will  give  up  the  cause 
of  Ireland.  He  went  out  from  Dublin  once  more ;  he  went 
again  to  the  court  of  King  Roderic,  shook  bim  once  more 
into  courage  and  hope  for  Ireland,  and  rallied  his  people. 
He  called  the  Ulster  men  again  from  their  fastnesses, 
rallied  the  men  of  Munster,  the  McCarthy  Mor,  the  O'Don- 
nels,  and  the  O'Briens.  He  roused  all  Ireland.  And  the 
Archbishop  marched  at  the  head  of  sixty  thousand  men,  in 


BT,  LAURENCE  OTOOLEj  ^  138 

order  to  lay  siege  to  Dublin,  vowing  that  as  long  as  an 
English  invader  remained  on  Irish  soil,  he  could  never 
know  a  moment^s  rest. 

Dublin  was  besieged.  The  Irish  forces,  to  the  number  of 
sixty  thousand,  lay  around  it.  O'Melaghlin,  of  Ulster,  took 
possession  of  the  Hill  of  Howth ;  on  the  plain  of  Clontarf 
Roderic  O'Conor,  with  his  large  army,  spread  over  to  the 
site  of  the  present  Phoenix  Park.  On  the  other  side,  east 
of  the  hill,  lay  the  O'Briens  of  Munster ;  the  passes  by  the 
coast  of  Dalkey  and  Dunleary  were  held  by  the  O'Tooles 
and  the  O'Byrnes  of  Wicklow.  They  pressed  the  siege  until 
the  Norman  knights  were  almost  famished  in  the  city ;  and 
driven  by  desperation  made  one  desperate  sally,  broke 
through  one  portion  of  the  line  of  the  Eng  of  Go£naaght'5 
iarmy,  and  so  liberated  themselves.  The  Irish  host,  instead 
of  closing  around  them  and  destroying  them,  lost  courage 
and  heart.  Divided  for  so  many  years,  they  separated  once 
more.  The  O'Conor  withdrew  into  his  western  province; 
the  O'Neil  and  the  O'Donnell  withdrew  again  from  the 
town ;  and  once  more,  despite  the  tears,  the  prayers  and  the 
devotion  of  Laurence,  the  land  of  Ireland  was  left  at  the 
mercy  of  its  ruthless  and  tyrannical  conquerors.  If  wo 
credit  the  evidence  of  the  historian,  Leland, — one  of  the 
most  ancient  and  respectable  of  our  historians, — he  tells  us 
that,  in  that  siege  of  Dublin,  the  Archbishop  was  seen  pass- 
ing from  rank  to  rank  animating  the  men,  speaking  to  them 
in  the  ringing  tones  of  their  native  Irish  language,  appealing 
to  them  by  all  that  they  held  most  sacred  upon  earth,  and 
by  their  hopes  of  Heaven,  to  do  battle,  like  men,  for  their 
native  land,  and  to  destroy  its  invaders.  Leland  goes 
further:  he  tells  us  (upon  what  authority  I  know  not),  that 
so  carried  away  was  the  Irish  prince-archbishop — when  he 
saw  the  day  darkening  for  Ireland,  that  he  laid  aside  his 
episcopal  station  for  an  hour,  girded  on  the  sword,  and  led 
on  the  Irish  forces,  charging  into  the  midst  of  theii*  enemies 
as  became  a  prince. 

And,  now,  the  heart  of  the  man  was  broken;  his  high 
hopes  were  crushed  forever.  Perhaps,  with  his  prophetic 
eye,  illumined  by  the  spirit  of  sanctity  that  was  within  him, 
he  foresaw  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  ages  that  were  to 
come.  Perhaps  he  saw  his  country  enslaved,  century  after 
century,  until  her  very  name  went  out  amongst  the  peoples 


134  IRELAND  Am>  TEE  IRI8H. 

of  the  earth  as  "  the  Niobe  of  nations,"  the  most  stricken  and 
heart-broken  of  peoples.  Certain  it  is  that  the  heart  of  the 
man  was  broken  within  him.  In  the  year  1171,  all  the 
princes  of  Ireland,  excepting  Ulster,  having  made  their  sub- 
mission, nothing  remained  for  the  holy  prince-archbishop  but 
to  do  all  he  could  for  his  people.  One  of  Henry's  pretexts 
for  conquering  Ireland  was  that  they  were  so  wicked  a  peo- 
ple, and  he  was  so  good  and  holy  !  that  it  was  necessary  that 
he  should  conquer  the  country  to  preserve  the  faith.  How 
did  he  begin  to  make  himself  so  good  and  holy  ?  He  shed 
the  blood  of  St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury.  That  blood  was 
upon  his  hand, — the  blood  of  a  holy  archbishop,  slaughtered 
at  the  foot  of  the  altar,  in  the  very  presence  of  Christ,  by  the 
order  of  the  tyrant !  That  blood  was  red  upon  the  hands 
of  the  man  who  came  to  teach  the  Irish  people  their  religion ! 
Before  him  came  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  fearless,  although 
his  fellow-prelate  had  been  slaughtered.  He  demanded  terms 
for  his  people.  He  spoke  as  a  prince  of  the  people  that 
spoke  with  authority,  and  in  the  name  of  God.  He  fright- 
ened the  tyrannical  English  monarch,  who  was  of  that  race 
of  which  St.  Bernard  said  :  "  They  came  from  the  devil,  and 
to  the  devil  they  will  go."  Those  were  the  words  of  St. 
Bernard  of  that  very  house  of  Plantagenet  of  whom  Henry 
the  Second  was  one  of  the  great  founders, — the  man  who  in- 
vaded Ireland. 

Now,  my  friends,  twice  did  the  Saint  cross  the  sea  to  in- 
tercede for  the  Irish  people,  to  make  treaties  of  peace  for 
the  Irish  kings  with  the  EngKsh  monarch ;  and  to  obtain 
the  recognition  of  Ireland's  freedom  and  Ireland's  national- 
ity. And  history  tells  us  that  it  is  to  the  last  of  Ireland's 
Saints  we  owe  that  treaty  of  peace  which  was  concluded  be- 
tween Roderic  O'Conor,  King  of  Connaught,  and  Henry  II., 
King  of  England,  and  which  recognized  Ireland's  nationality, 
Ireland's  existence  as  a  distinct  nation,  embodied  in  the  per- 
son of  her  monarch.  You  may  say  to  me  it  was  a  small 
thing  for  him  to  recognize  Ireland's  nationality  when  he  had 
his  foot  upon  her  neck ;  but  I  say  it  was  a  great  thing  that, 
for  seven  hundred  years  of  war  and  persecution,  through 
the  action  and  the  spirit  of  the  last  of  Ireland's  Saints,  we 
are — I  thank  my  God  in  Heaven — we  are  a  nation  still. 
We  are  not  a  province :  Ireland  was  never  a  province  of  tK© 
British  Empire.     To-day,  the  Queen  of  England  calls  h^:^elf 


ST.  LAURENCE  OTOOLE,  135 

"Queen  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland."     To  this  day  she 
sends  to  Ireland  her  Viceroy,  which  means  one  who  takes 
the  place  of  the  King.     A  Viceroy  is  not  sent  to  a  province 
but  to  a  nation.     But  you  will  ask  what  does  all  this  serve  ? 
I  answer,  a  noble  idea  always  serves ;  a  noble  idea,  main- 
tained and  upheld  by  the  hand  of  priest  and  layman,  and 
upheld  by  the  hand  of  the  martyr ; — a  noble  idea,  upheld  by 
a  worship,  recognized  for  ages  as  the  rallying  point  of  a  peo- 
ple, when  the  hour  of  their  destiny  arrives ; — such  shall  Ire- 
land's nationality  be  for  Irishmen.     You  have  all  often 
heard  that,  when  the  English  King  invaded  Ireland,  he 
came  in  virtue  of  a  Bull  which  he  received  from  the  Pope. 
Writers  of  English  history  assert  this,  and  many  amongst 
them  bring  their  proofs  of  it.     Now,  I  have  my  doubts 
whether  he  got  that  rescript  at  all.      I  have  studied  this 
question  as  well  as  I  could,  and  I  don't  beUeve  that  the 
Pope  ever  gave  the  English  monarch  a  commission  to  invade 
Jreland.     It  is  singular  that  of  Irish  archaeologists,  the  great- 
est now  living, — the  present  respected  Bishop  of  Ossory — 
Dr.  Moran — w}io  has  studied  for  years  at  the  fountain-head, 
in  Rome,  gives  his  conclusion,  deliberate  and  calm,  that  he 
does  not  believe  one  word  of  the  story  of  Adrian  IV.  mak- 
ing a  present  of  Ireland  to  the  English  King.   It  may  be  so. 
It  may  be  that  such  representations  were  made  to  the  Pope 
that  he  inferred  this ;  it  may  be  that  the  English  monarch 
sent  his  ministers  there,  who  told  the  Holy  Father  that  the 
Irish  were  such  terrible  people,  and  had  given  up  legitimate 
marriage  altogether ;  and  their  priests  were  a  bad  lot ;  and 
if  the  Pope  would  give  him  leave  to  go  over,  he  would  set 
everything  to  rights ;  for  English  historians  tell  us  that  waa 
the  case ;  and  that,  when  Henry  II.  came  to  Ireland,  he  had 
in  his  hand  a  letter  from  the  Pope,  authorizing  him  to  go 
and  take  possession  of  the. Island.      Now,  I  answer,  if  he 
had  that  letter,  why  did  he  not  show  it  ?   He  never  showed 
it.     "When  he  came  to  Ireland,  he  never  said  one  word  about 
that  letter — that  permission  from  the  Pope.     He  called  all 
the  Irish  Bishops  together  (St.  Laurence  O'Toole  was  there), 
at  Cashel,  in  1171 ;  he  had  them  all,  except  a  few  from  Con- 
naught,  and  some  of  the  Ulster  Bishops,  who  held  aloof 
because  they  were  not  yet  conquered ;    and  when  all  the 
Bishops  and  priests  were  there,  Henry  came  and  said  to 
them,  '^Now  you  must  make  laws  and  set  everything  to 


136  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

rights."  He  never  said  one  word  about  the  letter  of  the 
Pope.  When  Henry  II.  came  to  Ireland,  all  the  historians  tell 
us,  the  only  man  in  Ireland  of  whom  he  was  really  afraid  was 
St.  Laurence  O'Toole ;  because  there  was  no  man  in  Ireland 
who  had  such  power  to  bind  the  people  together ;  no  man 
that  loved  Ireland  as  h^  did ;  not  a  braver  man  on  that  bat- 
tle-field of  Clontarf,  than  that  man  whose  Irish  heart  beat 
beneath  the  cope  of  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin.  The  Eng- 
lish King  was  so  much  afraid  of  him  that  he  endeavored  by 
the  use  of  every  means  in  his  power  to  gain  him  over.  Now, 
the  English  King  knew  well  that  if  St.  Laurence  O'Toole 
knew  he  had  a  letter  of  that  kind  from  the  Pope,  like  an 
humble  and  obedient  man,  he  would  cease  his  opposition ; 
he  would  not  be  bringing  sixty  thousand  men  against  him ; 
and  yet  he  never  showed  that  letter  to  St.  Laurence  O'Toole. 
He  waited  until  Pope  Adrian  IV.  was  ten  years  dead  and  in 
his  grave ;  and  then  he  produced  the  letter.  And  so  I  say 
that,  although  there  be  grave  and  weighty  arguments  on  one 
side,  I  have  such  doubts  as  to  the  authenticity  of  that  Bull 
of  Adrian  IV.,  that  I  don't  believe  one  word  of  it.  Nay 
more,  seven  years  later,  when  St.  Laurence  went  to  Home  to 
the  Council  of  Lateran,  Alexander  was  then  Pope  ;  and  of 
all  the  Bishops  that  came  to  that  Council  there  was  not  a 
single  man  that  received  so  much  honor  as  the  Archbishop 
of  Dublin  did,  from  the  Pope,  because  of  his  sanctity.  He 
put  him  in  the  highest  place,  gave  him  the  pallium  of  Arch- 
bishop, ordered  the  Bishops  of  Ossory,  of  Leighlin,  and  others 
to  be  subject  to  him,  made  him  his  own  Legate-Apostolic, 
and,  crowiied  with  glory,  sent  him  back  to  Ireland.  Now, 
if  the  Pope  had  really  given  permission  to  Henry  the  Sec- 
ond to  go  and  take  Ireland,  and  the  Archbishop  should  in  the 
face  of  that,  have,  as  it  were,  taken  Henry  II.  by  the  throat ; 
— if  that  Bull  of  Adrian  IV.  was  shown,  you,  Laurence 
O'Toole,  Saint  in  Heaven  to-night,  you  would  have  gone  to 
Borne  as  a  man  under  a  cloud,. a  man  who  forgot  where  he 
owed  his  obedience,  a  man  who  dared  to  excite  the  people 
after  the  head  of  the  Church  had  declared  they  should  sub- 
mit. But  he  did  not  go  to  Rome  in  that  capacity  ;  he  went 
to  receive  more  honor  than  any  other  Bishop ;  therefore,  I 
conclude  that  he  never  saw  this  letter  of  the  Pope,  because  I 
believe  the  Pope  never  wrote  it. 

In  the  year  1180,  Boderic  O'Conor,  King  of  Ireland,  was 


ST.  LAURENCE  a  TOOLS,  137 

again  in  trouble  with  the  English  monarch ;  and  he  had  to 
send  one  of  his  sons  as  a  hostage  to  Henry.  St.  Laurence 
took  charge  of  the  boy,  and  brought  him  over  to  England  to 
put  him  into  the  hands  of  the  English  monarch,  thinking, 
perhaps,  with  sorrow  of  the  day  when  he  himself,  a  young 
prince,  was  put  into  the  hands  of  a  cruel,  heartless  tyrant. 
The  King  of  England  was  not  in  the  land ;  he  was  in  France 
at  the  time ;  but  before  he  went  to  France  he  left  orders  that, 
if  Laurence  O'Toole,  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  came  over  to 
England,  he  was  to  be  kept  prisoner,  and  not  to  be  allowed 
to  return  to  Ireland  any  more.  This  was  the  man  who  came 
to  reform  the  Irish  Church  and  teach  the  people  how  to  be 
good!  No  Irish  king  was  ever  known  to  lay  hand  on  a 
Bishop.  The  first  monarch  that  came,  as  Cromwell  came  in 
after  years,  with  the  words  of  God's  holy  Scripture  on  his 
lips, — he  who  had  shed  the  blood  of  St.  Thomas  ^Becket, 
— laid  hailds  upon  and  bound  the  Irish  Archbishop  in  Eng- 
land. But  the  Irish  blood,  the  spirit  that  can  never  bend, 
though  it  may  be  broken,  revolted  against  this  treatment. 
When  he  found  he  was  going  to  be  detained  as  a  prisoner, 
he  instantly  arose,  took  the  young  prince  and  went  over  to 
France,  to  stand  before  the  English  monarch  and  beard  him 
to  his  face.  He  arrived  in  France ;  but  soon  after  he  touched 
the  soil  of  Normandy,  and  had  travelled  a  little  into  the 
country,  the  heart-sorrow  that  weighed  upon  him  became 
too  great.  What !  An  Irish  prince,  an  Irish  archbishop, — 
the  son  of  an  unconquered  race,  of  a  people  that  had  never 
known  serfdom  or  slavery, — has  the  eldest  son  of  Ireland's 
monarch,  Roderic  O'Conor,  and  is  bringing  him,  a  prisoner,  to 
put  him  into  the  hands  of  the  tyrant  that  had  shed  the  blood 
of  his  people !  It  was  too  much  for  him,  because  he  thought 
of  Ireland.  He  saw  his  country  invaded  and  enslaved,  the 
chieftains  divided,  the  holy  work  in  which  he  was  engaged 
broken  and  ruined,  the  sanctuaries  of  St.  Mel,'  at  Armagh, 
in  flames,  the  churches  destroyed,  Columba's  saintly  monas- 
teries sacked  and  burned !  His  heart  was  broken  within  him. 
He  turned  aside  to  the  Abbey  of  Eu,  in  Normandy,  and 
entering  in  he  said  to  the  Abbot :  "  Give  a  dying  man  a  place 
whereon  he  may  lie  down  and  die."  Because  of  his  high 
dignity  as  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  they  received  him  with  all 
honor.  Now,  the  Angel  of  Death  was  approaching.  With 
his  dying  breath  the  Archbishop  commissioned  his  secretary. 


138  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

the  Irish  priest  that  was  with  him,  to  take  the  young  prince 
and  carry  him  to  Henry,  and  tell  him  that,  "  When  the  agonies 
of  death  were  upon  me,  I  charged  him,  in  the  name  of  the  God, 
before  whom  I  am  about  to  appear, — with  my  last  words  I 
charged  him,  in  the  name  of  Almighty  God,  to  treat  this 
prince  as  the  son  of  a  king ;  not  to  forget  that  this  prince's 
father  is  a  king,  and  that  his  people  are  still  a  nation  having 
a  king  at  their  head."  Then,  as  he  lay  upon  his  humble  bed 
the  monks  came  around  him,  and  they  heard  him  pouring  forth 
his  soul  to  God  in  prayer ;  and  they  said  to  each  other :  "  This 
man  must  be  very  rich ;  he  is  Archbishop  of  the  richest  dio- 
cese in  the  world ;  perhaps  he  has  not  made  his  will."  They 
did  not  know  St.  Laurence.  While  he  was  Archbishop  of 
Dublin  he  fed  five  hundred  poor  people  every  day  at  his  o^vn 
table  ;  he  clothed  and  fed  four  hundred  others  outside ;  and 
constantly  provided  for  two  hundred  orphans,  ^nd  when 
they  came  to  him  and  said  to  him :  "  Will  you  not  make 
your  will  ?  "  he  looked  up  and  said  :  "  I  declare  to  my  God 
that  I  have  not  a  single  coin  in  this  world  to  leave  behind 
me."  Then  the  agonies  of  death  came  upon  him.  There  he 
lay,  communing  with  his  Divine  Lord.  And,  now,  at  last, 
in  this  last  moment,  the  patriot  must  be  lost  in  the  saint,  the 
prince  forgotten  in  the  dying  Christian.  No  thought  can 
come  between  the  man  of  God  and  that  God  whom  he  is 
about  to  meet.  Hark  to  his  words :  "  Into  Thy  hands,  O 
Jesus  Christ,  I  resign  my  spirit.  O  strong  Son  of  God,  take 
me.  I  have  now  known  I  will  see  Thy  face  and  rejoice  for- 
ever." Then  the  French  monks,  praying  around  him,  heard 
strange  words  from  his  lips :  they  did  not  understand  them, 
for  they  were  spoken  in  the  Irish  language.  His  last  words 
were  :  "  O  foolish  and  senseless  people  I  what,  will  now  be- 
come of  you  ?  Who  now  will  relieve  your  miseries  ?  who 
will  heal  you  now  that  I  am  going  away?"  With  these 
words  he  died.  He  is  canonized  by  the  Church  of  God ;  his 
Christian  soul  passed  straight  to  the  high  throne,  which  he 
had  earned,  in  Heaven;  and  his  last  words  upon  earth 
proved  that  he  cherished  the  most  sacred  love  for  country 
that  ever  filled  the  heart  of  man.  Next  to  the  love  of  his 
God,  was  his  love  for  the  land  that  bore  him,  and  the  people 
of  his  own  blood. 

This  was  the  last  of  Ireland's  canonized  saints.     He  was 
canonized  in  Home  by  Pope  Honorious  III.,  in  the  year 


8T,  LAURENCE  Q TOOLE,  I39 

1226.  His  body  is  enshrined  in  the  Abbey  church  in  which 
he  died;  and  his  name  has  gone  forth, — Saint  Laurence 
O'Toole, — as  the  last  of  the  great  prelates  the  Irish  Church 
produced ;  and  she  was  the  motiier  of  many  saints  and  of 
great  prelates.  The  spirit  that  animated  his  love  for  home, 
— the  love  that  broke  his  heart, — has  survived  in  the  hearts 
of  those  who  came  after  him,  inheriting  his  priesthood.  It 
was  the  spirit  of  Laurence  that  kept  the  Irish  people  faithful 
to  their  priests,  and  the  Irish  priests  faithful  to  their  people, 
when  every  power  of  earth  and  of  hell  was  raised  up  against 
them.  When  all  the  might  of  England  declared  that  it  must 
separate  that  priesthood  from  that  people — corrupt  that 
priesthood  and  destroy  the  Catholic  faith  in  Ireland, — ^the 
priesthood,  animated  by  the  spirit  of  Laurence,  the  Irish 
people,  animated  by  the  spirit  of  their  holy  faith,  joined 
hands  in  that  day,  and  answered,  "  Those  whom  God  hath 
joined  together  no  man  can  sever."  Never  did  the  Irish 
people  separate  themselves  from  their  clergy,  nor  the  Irish 
priesthood  from  their  faithful,  loving  people.  When  the 
Prophet  Elias  was  taken  up  to  Heaven  EUsais  cried  out  to 
him,  "  Let  me  have  thy  two-fold  spirit.  Leave  thy  spirit 
upon  me."  And  he  who  was  borne  along  on  the  chariot  of 
fire,  let  fall  his  mantle,  and  with  it  his  two-fold  spirit  upon 
him.  Laurence,  ascending  to  Heaven,  must  have  heard 
some  great,  some  faithful  bishop  in  Ireland  : — "  Oh,  chariot 
of  Israel  and  its  charioteer,  leave  behind  thee  thy  two-fold 
spirit — the  love  of  God  and  of  thy  country.  Leave  that  two- 
fold love  to  be  the  inheritance  of  Irish  priests  and  Irish 
bishops."  The  prayer  was  answered,  the  mystic  mantle  has 
fallen.  Ireland  is  bound  to-day,  as  of  old,  as  one  man,  the 
priests  to  the  people  and  the  people  to  the  priests,  by  the 
golden  fillet  of  a  common  faith,  and  the  silver  cord  of  a  com- 
mon love  for  their  motherland.  Let  me  conclude.  O,  may 
the  spirit  of  Laurence  be  still  upon  us, — at  home  and  abroad. 
Thousands  of  miles  of  ocean  lie  between  me  and  the  land  of 
my  birth ;  between  you  and  the  land  of  your  best  recollec- 
tions, your  truest  aspirations  and  your  strongest  love.  But, 
whether  at  home  or  abroad,  whether  upon  the  green  hill- 
side, with  its  shamrocks  covering  the  graves  of  the  saints, 
or  upon  the  splendid  shores  of  this  mighty  Continent,  O 
niay  the  spirit  of  Laurence  be  still  your  inheritance  and 
mine,  and  that  we  may  sanctify  ourselves  in  our  love  for  our 


uo 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


religion  and  for  our  faith,  and  that  we  may  sanctify  onr- 
selves  before  God  and  the  world,  in  our  love  for  the  green 
land  that  bore  us,  and  that  holy  religion  handed  down  to  us, 
— the  most  magnificent  history  that  ever  yet  was  the  heri- 
tage of  an  afflicted  people. 


"THE  YOLUNTEERS  OF  '82 » 

{Lecture  delivered  by  the  Very  Bev.  T.  N.  Burke^  0.  P.,  in  the 
Academy  of  Mueic^  New  York^  October  llih^  1872.) 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen  :  Before  I  proceed  to  the  subject 
of  my  lecture,  which  is  one  of  the  most  glorious  in  the  his- 
tory of  Ireland — namely,  the  "  Volunteer  Movement  of  1782  " 
— circumstances  oblige  me  to  make  a  few  preliminary  re- 
marks. I  have  known,  in  Ireland  and  out  of  Ireland,  many 
Englishmen;  I  have  esteemed  them;  and  I  have  never 
yet  known  an  Englishman  who  lived  for  any  length  of  time 
in  Ireland  without  becoming  a  lover  of  the  country  and  of  its 
people.  Their  proverbial  love  for  Ireland  was  cast  in  their  fa- 
ces in  olden  time,  as  a  reproach.  It  was  said  of  the  English 
settlers  that  they  were  "more  Irish  than  the  Irish  them- 
selves." Now,  an  English  gentleman  has  come  amongst  us, 
great  in  name,  great  in  learning,  and  also  professing  a  love 
of  our  Irish  nation  and  our  Irish  people.  '  But  there  is 
an  old  proverb  that  says:  "No  man  can  tell  where  the 
shoe  pinches  so  well  as  the  man  that  wears  it."  I  would 
not  mind  or  pay  much  attention  to  an  old  bachelor's  de- 
scription of  the  joys  of  matrimony;  nor  would  I  pay  much 
heed  to  the  description  of  the  sorrows  of  a  man  who  had 
lost  his  wife,  as  described  to  me  by  a  man  who  never  had  a 
wife.  And  so,  in  like  manner,  when  an  Englishman  comes 
to  describe  the  sorrows  and  miseries  of  Ireland,  or  when  he 
comes  to  impute  them  to  their  causes,  the  least  that  can  be 
said  is  that  he  must  look  upon  this  question  from  the  out- 
side ;  whilst  a  man  of  Irish  blood,  of  Irish  name,  and  of 
Iiish  birth,  such  as  I  am,  looks  upon  them,  and  is  able  to 
say :  "  My  fathers  before  me  were  the  sufferers,  and  I  my- 
self have  beheld  the  remnants  of  their  sorrow." 

With  the  best  intentions  possible,  a  public  lecturer  may 
sometimes  be  a  little  mistaken,  or  he  may  be  reported  badly, 
or  his  words  may  convey  a  meaning  which,  perhaps,  they 
were  not  intended  to  convey.     I  read,  for  instance,  this 


142  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

morning,  that  this  learned  and,  no  doubt,  honorable  man, 
speaking  of  the  "  Golden  Age "  of  Ireland,  said  that  we 
Irish  were  accustomed  to  look  upon  the  time  that  went  be- 
fore the  English  invasion  as  the  "  Golden  Age  "  of  Ireland ; 
and  then,  he  is  reported  to  have  gone  on  to  say :  "  And  yet, 
for  the  two  centuries  that  preceded  the  English  invasion, 
all  was  confusion,  all  was  bloodshed  in  Ireland."  It  is  per- 
fectly true ;  but  the  "  Golden  Age  "  of  Ireland  is  not  pre- 
cisely the  two  centuries  that  went  before  the  English  invasion. 
Irish  history  is  divided  into  three  great  periods,  from  the  day 
that  our  fathers  embraced  Christianity,  when  St.  Patrick 
preached  to  them  the  Catholic  faith,  early  in  the  fifth  cen- 
tury, and  Ireland  embraced  it.  For  three  hundred  years  af- 
ter Patrick's  preaching,  Ireland  enjoyed  a  reign  of  peace  and 
of  sanctity,  which  made  her  the  envy  and  the  admiration  of 
the  world ;  and  she  was  called  by  the  surrounding  nations, 
**  The  Island  home  of  Saints  and  of  scholars."  Peace  was 
upon  her  hills  and  in  her  valleys.  Wise  Brehon  laws  gov- 
erned her.  Saints  peopled  her  monasteries  and  convents; 
aoid  students,  in  thousands,  from  every  clime,  came  to  Ire- 
land to  light  at  her  pure  blaze  of  knowledge  the  lamp  of 
every  art  and  of  every  highest  science.  This  is  the  evidence 
of  history ;  and  no  man  can  contradict  it.  But,  at  the  close 
of  the  eighth  century,  the  Danes  invaded  Ireland.  They 
swept  around  her  coasts,  and  poured  army  after  army  of  in- 
vasion in  upon  us.  For  three  hundred  long  years,  Ireland 
had  to  sustain  that  terrific  Danish  war,  in  defence  of  her  re- 
ligion and  of  her  freedom.  She  fought ;  she  conquered ;  but 
the  hydra  of  invasion  arose  again  and  again,  in  the  deadly 
struggle ;  and  for  the  nation,  it  seemed  to  be  an  unending, 
unceasing  task.  An  army  was  destroyed  to-day,  only  to 
yield  place  to  another  army  of  invasion  to-morrow.  What 
was  the  consequence  ?  The  peace  of  Ireland  was  lost ;  the 
morality  of  the  people  was  shattered  and  disturbed  by  these 
three  hundred  years  of  incessant  war.  Convents  and  mon- 
asteries were  destroyed,  churches  were  pillaged  and  burned ; 
for  the  men  who  invaded  Ireland  were  Pagans,  who  came  to 
lay  the  religion  of  their  Pagan  gods  upon  the  souls  of  the 
Irish  people.  What  ^yonder  if,  when  Ireland  came  forth 
from  that  Danish  war,  after  driving  her  invaders  from  her 
soil, — what  wonder  if  the  laws  were  disregarded,  if  society 
wss  ahsken.  to  its  base,  if  the  religion  of  the  people  was 


"  TEE  VOLUNTEEBS  OF  '&2.»  I43 

greatly  injured  and  their  morality  greatly  influenced  for  the 
worse  by  so  many  centuries  of  incessant  war.  When,  there- 
fore, the  historian  or  lecturer  speaks  of  the  time  preceding 
the  English  invasion  as  the  "  Golden  Age  "  of  Ireland,  let 
him  go  back  to  the  days  before  the  Danes  invaded  us.  No 
Irishman  pretends  to  look  upon  the  three  hundred  years  of 
Danish  warfare  as  the  "Golden  Age;"  for,  truly,  it  was 
the  age  of  blood.  The  confusion  that  arose  in  Ireland  was 
terrible.  When  the  Danish  invaders  were,  at  length,  over- 
thrown by  the  gallant  king  who  was  slain  upon  the  field  of 
Glontarf,  the  country  was  divided,  confusion  reigned  in 
every  direction ;  and  her  people  scarcely  yet  breathed  after 
the  terrific  struggle  of  three  hundred  years.  Yet,  in  the 
brief  period  of  sixty  years  that  elapsed  from  the  expulsion 
of  the  Danes,  before  the  landing  of  the  Anglo-Normans,  we 
find  the  Irish  Bishops  assembled,  restoring  essential  and  sal- 
utary laws  to  the  Church.  We  find  St.  Malachi,  one  of  the 
greatest  men  of  his  day.  Primate  of  the  See  of  Armagh ;  and 
on  the  Archiepiscopal  throne  of  Dublin,  the  English  invad- 
ing tyrant  found  an  Irish  Prince,  heart  and  hand  with  his 
people,  who  was  ready  to  shed  his  blood  for  his  native  land ; 
and  that  man  was  the  great  St.  Laurence  O'Toole. 

It  has  been  asserted  also  that  the  Danes  remained  in  Ire- 
land. It  is  true  that  they  founded  the  cities  of  Waterford, 
Wexford,  and  Dublin.  The  Danes  remained  there;  but 
Jiow  did  they  remain  there?  They  conformed  to  the  man- 
ners and  customs  of  the  Irish  people ;  they  submitted  to 
the  Irish  laws ;  they  adopted  the  Catholic  religion,  and  be- 
came good  and  fervent  Christians.  On  these  conditiona 
they  were  permitted  to  remain  in  Ireland.  It  is  all  nonsense 
to  say  that  they  remained  by  force.  What  was  easier  for  the 
victor  of  Clontarf, — when  he  had  driven  their  Pagan  fellow- 
warriors  into  the  sea, — what  was  easier  than  for  him  to  turn 
the  force  of  the  Irish  arms  against  them,  and  drive  them 
also  into  the  sea  that  lay  before  him  ?  No ;  the  Danes  re- 
mained in  Ireland  because  they  became  Irish ;  aye,  "  more 
Irish  than  the  Irish  themselves."  Who  were  the  men 
whose  brave  hearts  so  loved  Ireland  that  in  her  cause  they 
forgot  all  prudence  and  all  care  for  their  lives  ?  Who  were 
the  men  of  '98  ?  They  were  the  fighting  men  of  Wexford 
and  of  Wicklow ;  they  were  the  men  of  Danish  blood  and 


144  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRI8S, 

name,  the  Roaches  and  the  Furlongs ;  but  they  loved  Ire- 
land as  well,  if  not  more,  than  our  fathers  did. 

It  has  been  asserted,  also,  that, — such  was  the  confusion, 
and  such  the  disruption  of  society, — that  "  there  was  one 
man  above  all  others  necessary :  and  he  was  the  policeman !  " 
"Well,  now,  the  policeman  is  a  very  ornamental,  and,  some- 
times, though  perhaps  rarely,  a  very  useful  member  of  society. , 
And  according  to  the  statement  as  reported,,  the  Pope  selected 
a  policeman,  and  sent  him  to  Ireland ;  and  Henry  the  Second, 
of  England,  was  the  Pope's  policeman.  Well,  my  friends,  let 
us  first  see  what  sort  of  a  policeman  he  was,  or  was  likely  to 
make.  Henry  came  of  a  family  that  was  so  wicked,  that  it  was 
the  current  belief  in  Europe  that  they  were  derived  from  the 
devil.  St.  Bernard  does  not  hesitate  to  say  of  the  house  of 
Plantagenet,  from  which  Henry  the  Second  came — "  They 
came  from  the  devil,  and  they  will  go  to  the  devil."  This 
man,  who  is  put  forth  as  the  "  Pope's  policeman,"  was  just 
after  slaughtering  St.  Thomas  a  Becket,  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury, at  the  steps  of  the  altar.  Three  knights  came 
straight  from  the  King,  and  at  the  King's  command  slaugh- 
tered this  English  Saint, — this  true  Englishman, — for  Thomas 
a  Becket  was  not  only  a  Saint,  but  he  was  a  true  English- 
man, as  Laurence  O'Toole  was  a  Sflint,  and  the  heart's  blood 
of  an  Irishman.  St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury  stood  up,  bravely 
and  manfully,  with  English  pluck  and  English  determination, 
for  the  liberty  of  the  Church,  and  for  the  liberty  of  the 
people.  And  the  tyrant  king, — this  "  Pope's  policeman," — 
said,  stamping  his  feet  and  tearing  his  hair :— "  Will  no 
man  amongst  you," — (and,  mind  you,  these  knights  were 
standing  around  him,)  "  will  no  man  have  the  courage  to 
rid  me  of  that  priest !  "  Three  of  them  took  him  at  his 
word,  and  went  down  to  Canterbury.  At  the  altar  they 
found  the  Saint;  and,  at  the  foot  of  the  altar,  with  their 
swords,  they  hacked  his  head  and  spattered  his  blood 
upon  the  very  altar.  That  blood  was  red  upon  the  hands  of 
the  English  tyrant.  And  is  that  the  man,  I  ask  you,  that 
the  Pope,  of  all  others,  had  chosen  to  send  to  Ireland  to 
restore  order  ?  Oh !  but  men  will  say :  "  The  Pope  did  it : 
there  is  the  document  to  prove  it ;  the  Bull  of  Adrian  the 
Foui-th."  Well,  now,  my  friends,  listen  to  me  for  a  mo- 
ment. If  a  sheriff's  officer  came  into  your  house  to  turn 
you  out  on  the  street,  would  not  the  first  question  you 


"  THE  VOLUNTEERS  OF  '82."  145 

would  put  to  him  be, — **  Sir,  stow  me  your  warrant." 
And,  if  he  said,  **  I  have  no  warrant ;  "  the  next  thing  you 
would  do  would  be  to  kick  him  out.  Henry  the  Second 
came  to  Ireland ; — men  say  to-day  that  he  came  upon  the 
Pope's  authority, — with  the  Pope's  Bull  in  his  pocket.  If 
he  did,  why  did  he  not  show  it  when  he  came  to  Ireland  ? 
If  he  had  that  document,  he  kept  it  a  profound  secret.  If 
he  had  it  in  his  pocket,  he  kept  it  in  his  pocket ;  and  no 
man  ever  saw  it  or  heard  of  it.  There  was  only  one  man  in 
Ireland,  on  that  day  when  the  English  invaded  usj— there 
was  only  one  man  in  Ireland  that'  had  a  mind  and  heart 
equal  to  the  occasion ;  and  that  man  was  the  sainted  Arch- 
bishop of  Dublin,  Laurence  O'Toole.  He  was  the  only  man 
in  Ireland  that  was  able  to  rally  the  nation.  He  succeeded 
in  bringing  sixty  thousand  Irish  soldiers  before  the  walls  of 
Dublin.  Henry  the  Second  was  afraid  of  him ;  and  so  well 
he  might  be.  He  was  so  much  afraid  of  him,  that  he  left  a 
special  order  that,  when  St.  Laurence  should  come  to  Eng- 
land, he  was  not  to  be  let  go  back  to  Ireland  any  more. 
Now,  if  Henry  had  the  Pope's  brief  or  rescript,  why  did  he 
not  take  it  to  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  and  say  to  him  : 
"  There  is  the  Pope's  handwriting ;  there  is  his  seal ; — there 
is  his  signature  ?  "  If  he  had  done  this  at  that  moment,  there 
would  not  be  another  word  said ;  he  would  have  run  no  risk ; 
the  saint  would  have  never  moved  against  the  Pope; 
and  Henry  would  have  paralyzed  his  greatest  and  most 
terrible  enemy ;  but,  no ;  he  never  said  a  word  at  all 
about  it ;  he  never  showed  it  to  a  human  being ;  St.  Lau- 
rence died  without  ever  knowing  of  the  existence  of  such  a 
document.  Henry  came  to  Ireland;  but  he  had^  no  war- 
rant ;  and  the  very  man,  who,  if  Irishmen  had  been  united, 
would  have  succeeded  in  kicking  him  out,  did  not  see  it. 
When  did  Henry  produce  this  famous  document  or  Bull, 
which  he  said  he  got  from  the  Pope  ?  He  waited  till  Pope 
Adrian  was  in  his  grave ; — ^the  only  man  that  could  contra- 
dict him.  There  was  no  record,  no  copy  of  it  at  Rome.  He 
produced  it  then;  biit  it  was  easy  for  the  like  of  him. 
How  easily  they  could  manufacture  a  document  and  sign  a 
man's  name  to  it.  He  waited  till  Adrian  was  years  in  his 
grave  before  he  produced  it.  And  I  say,  without  venturing 
absolutely  to  deny  the  existence  of  such  a  document, — ^I 
say,  as  an  Irishman  and  as  a  priest ;  as  one  who  has  studied 
7 


146  IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRISH, 

a  little  history, — I  don't  believe  one  word  of  it ;  but  I  do 
believe  it  was  a  thumping  English  lie,  from  beginning  to 
end. 

It  has  also  been  asserted  that  our  people  lived  in  great 
misery ;  that  they  burrowed  in  the  earth  like  rabbits.  That 
is  true.  Remember ;  three  hundred  years  of  war  had  passed 
over  the  land.  Remember,  that  it  was  a  war  of  devastation, 
that  all  the  great  buildings  in  the  land  were  nearly  utterly 
-destroyed  by  the  Danes.  Convents  and  monasteries,  that 
were  the  homes  of  hundreds  and  thousands  of  monks,  were 
levelled  to  the  ground.  •  It  is  true  that  the  Irish  were  in 
misery.  It  has  been  asserted  that  there  is  no  evidence  of 
their  ancient  grandeur  or  civilization,  **  except  a  few  Cyclo- 
pean churches,  and  a  few  Round  Towers."  I  would  only  ask 
for  one :  if  there  was  only  one  ruin  in  Ireland,  of  church  or 
Round  Tower,  I  could  trace  that  ruin  back  to  the  first  day 
of  Ireland's  Christianity ;  and  I  lay  my  hand  upon  that  one 
evidence,  and  say :  "  Wherever  this  was  raised,  there  was  a 
civilized  people  that  knew  the  high  art  of  architecture." 
What  nonsense  to  say,  "  there  were  only  a  few  Round  Tow- 
ers." Surely,  they  could  not  have  built  even  one,  if  they 
didn't  know  how.  If  they  were  ignorant  savages  they  would 
not  have  been  able  to  build  anything  of  the  kind.  But,  if 
they  were  "  burrowing  in  the  earth,"  how  were  their  English 
neighbors  off?  We  have  ancient  evidence,  going  back 
nearly  to  St.  Patrick's  time,  that  the  Hill  of  Tara  was  cov- 
ered with  fair  and  magnificent,  though,  perhaps,  rude  build- 
ings. On  the  southern  slope  of  the  hill,  catching  the  merid- 
ian gloly  of  the  sun,  there  was  the  Queen's  Palace.  Crown- 
ing the  summit,  was  the  great  HIall  of  Banqueting ;  within 
the  enclosure  was  the  palace  of  King  Cormac.  Four  mag- 
nificent roads  led  down  the  hillside,  to  the  four  provinces 
■of  Ireland ;  because  Tara  was  the  centre  and  the  seat  of  the 
dominion.  About  two  or  three  hundred  years  later,  when 
St.  Augustine  came  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  the  barbarous, 
pagan  Saxons  in  England,  how  did  he  find  them  ?  We  have 
one  little  record  of  history  that  tells  us.  We  are  told  that 
the  king — one  of  the  kings  of  the  Saxon  Heptarchy — was 
sitting  in  his  dining-hall ;  and  one  of  the  lords,-  or  attend- 
ants, or  priests,  said  to  him :  "  Your  Majesty,  life  is  short. 
Man's  life,  in  this  world,  is  Uke  the  bird  that  comes  in  at 
one  end  of  this  hall  and  goes  out  at  the  other."     Why,  were 


l( 


THE  VOLUNTEEBS  OF  '82."  I47 


there  no  walla  ?  Apparently  there  were  not*  Surely  it  was 
a  strange  habitation  or  house  if  it  had  no  walls ;  for,  even  if 
it  was  a  frame  house,  a  bird  could  not  come  in  at  one  end  of 
the  dining-room  and  go  out  at  the  other.  All  these  things 
sound  beautifully  until  we  come  to  put  on  our  spectacles  and 
look  at  them.  It  is  true  that  the  Irish,  after  their  three 
hundred  years  of  war,  were  disorganized  and  disheartened, 
and  that  they  burrowed  in  the  earth  like  rabbits.  Ah !  to 
the  eternal  disgrace  of  England,  where  has  the  Irishman  in 
his  native  land  to-day,  a  better  house  than  he  had  then? 
What  kind  of  houses  did  they  leave  our  people?  Little 
mUd  cabins,  so  low  that  you  could  reach  the  roof  with  your 
hand,  scarce  fit  to  "  burrow  a  rabbit."  For  century  after 
century,  the  people  that  owned  the  land — the  people  that 
were  the  aboriginal  lords  of  the  land  and  soil — were  robbed, 
persecuted  and  confiscated  in  property  and  in  money  ;  hunted 
like  wolves  in  their  own  land ;  until,  to  this  day,  the  Irish 
peasant  has  scarcely  a  much  better  house.  I  have  seen  in 
my  own  day,  the  cabins  which  the  English  historian  tells  us 
of.  And  whose  fault  is  it  that  our  people  are  in  that  posi- 
tion? 

"We  are  told,  moreover — at  least  it  is  so  reported  in  the 
papers — that,  "  for  nearly  five  hundred  years,  England  had 
not  more  than  about  fifteen  hundred  men  in  Ireland,"  and 
that  they  were  able  to  keep  down  the  **^  wild  Irish  "  with  fif- 
teen hundred  men.  There  are  some  things  that  sound  so 
comical  that  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  hear  them.  When 
Hugh  OV^eill  was  at  the  Yellow  Ford,  and  the  English 
Field  Marshal  was  advancing  against  him,  was  it  fifteen  hun- 
dred men  he  had  ?  And  if  it  was  fifteen  hundred,  how  comes 
it  that  the  Yellow  Ford,  on  that  day,  was  choked  and  filled  up 
vith  the  Saxon  soldiers'  corpses  ?  Our  history  tells  us  that 
Queen  Elizabeth  had  twenty  thousand  men  in  Ireland,  and 
that  she  had  work  enough  for  them  all.  Aha !  she  had,  this 
sweet  English  Queen  I  She  found  work  for  them  all ;  there 
was  Catholic  blood  enough  in  the  land  to  employ  twenty  thou- 
sand butchers  to  shed  it.  Moreover,  we  are  told  that  the 
Catholics  of  Ireland,  at  the  time  of  America's  glorious  revo- 
lution, were  all  opposed  to  America's  elffbrt  to  achieve  her 
independence  ;  and  that  the  Protestants  of  Ireland  were  all 
helping  America.  Well,  listen  to  this  one  fact.  The  King 
of  England  demanded  four  thousand  men — Irishmen— to  go 


148  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH.  , 

out  and  fight  against  America.  The  Irish  Parliament  gave 
him  the  four  thousand  men ;  and  there  was  not  a  single 
Catholic  in  that  Parliament.  No  ;  they  were  all  Protestants. 
When  these  men  returned,  covered  with  wounds,  and  began 
to  tell  in  Ireland  what  kind  of  treatment  they  got  from 
Washington  and  his  people,  they  were  hailed  by  the  Catholic 
people  of  Ireland  as  the  veiy  apostles  of  liberty.  Amongst 
them  there  were  men  that  went  out  in  that  four  thousand, 
but  don't  imagine  that  they  went  out  to  enforce  the  slavery 
of  Ireland  upon  the  American  people.  Lord  Edward  Fitz- 
gerald was  one  of  the  four  thousand.  Was  he  ever  an 
enemy  of  the  people  ?  No  !  he  died  for  Ireland  and  for  her 
cause.  When  these  four  thousand  men  were  called  for  by 
England,  we  may  readily  believe  that  the  majority  of  them 
were  Protestants,  because  the  English  were  not  fools  enough 
to  be  putting  arms  in  Catholic  hands,  as  we  shall  see  in  the 
course  of  our  lecture.  When  they  came  to  this  country,  who 
gave  them  the  warmest  reception  ?  It  was  the  Catholics  of 
North  Carolina.  It  was  Catholic  America  that  met  them 
foot  to  foot  and  drove  them  back ;  until  Burgoyne,  the  fam- 
ous English  general,  had  to  go  down  on  his  knees  and  give 
up  his  sword  to  the  subordinate  of  the  immortal  and  im- 
perishable George  Washington; 

Out  of  that  very  American  war, — the  uprising  of  a  people 
in  a  cause  the  most  sacred,  after  that  of  religion, — the  cause 
of  their  outraged  rights,  their  trampled  liberties, — out  of 
that  American  war  arose  the-most  magnificent  incident  in 
the  remarkable  history  of  Ireland.  It  is  the  subject  of  this 
evening's  lecture. 

My  friends,  one  word,  indeed,  is  reported  in  this  morning's 
papers,  which  tells  a  sad  and  bitter  truth.  It  is  that  "  the 
real  source  of  England's  power  in  Ireland  has  always  been 
the  division  and  disunion  of  the  Irish  people."  There  is  no 
doubt  about  it, — it  is  as  true  as  Gospel.  Never,  during 
these  centuries,  never  did  the  Irish  people  unite :  I  don't 
know  why.     The  poet,  himself,  is  at  a  loss  to  assign  a  reason. 


*'  'Twas  fate,  they'll  say,  a  wayward  fate, 
Your  web  of  discord  wove ; 
And  while  your  tyrants  joined  in  hate, 
You  never  joined  in  love." 


"  THE  VOLUNTEERS  OF  '82."  149 

Ko;  the  Irish  people  were  not  even  allowed  to  gain  the 
secret  of  union.  From  the  day  the  Saxon  set  his  foot  upon 
Irish  soil,  his  first  idea,  his  first  study,  was  to  keep  the 
Irish  people  always  disunited.  The  consequence  was,  they 
began  by  getting  some  of  the  Irish  chieftains,  aod  giving 
them  English  titles  ;  giving  them  English  patents  of  nobil- 
ity ; — confirming  them  in  certain  English  rights.  On  the 
other  hand,  all  the  powerful  nobles  who  went  in  among  the 
Irish  people,  who  assumed  all  their  forms,  gained  the  secret, 
and  became,  as  I  have  said,  "  more  Irish  than  the  Irish 
themselves."  We  find  that,  as  early  as  1494, — about  the 
time^  America  was  discovered, — England  was  making  laws 
declaring  that  no  Englishman  coming  to  Ireland  was  to  take 
an  Irish  name,  or  learn  the  language,  or  intermarry  with  an 
Irish  woman.  They  could  not  live  in  a  place  where  the 
Irish  lived,  but  drew  a  pale  around  their  possessions,  in- 
trenching themselves  in  certain  counties  and  in  certain 
cities  in  Ireland.  "We  find  a  law  made,  as  early  as  the 
period  in  question,  commanding  the  English  to  build  a  double 
ditch,  six  feet  high,  between  them  and  the  Irish  portion  of 
the  country,  and,  at  the  peril  of  their  lives,  not  to  go  out- 
side that  ditcTi.  To  keep  the  natives  divided  seemed  to  be 
the  policy  of  England,  from  the  first  day  up  to  this  hour. 
It  must  have  been  very  difficult ;  because  the  Irish,  from  the 
evidence  of  history,  seemed  to  say  of  the  English,  although 
they  came  as  enemies  the  Irish  were  most  anxious  or  inclined, 
to  use  a  common  phrase,  "  to  cotton  to  one  another,"  and 
become  friends.  They  seemed  very, anxious  to  join  hands. 
The  Irish  had  appeared  very  often,  in  many  periods  of  their 
history,  to  say  to  the  English — "  Although  you  have  come 
as  enemies,  since  you  are  here,  now,  stay,  in  the  name  of 
God,  as  friends ;  the  country  is  large  enough  for  us  all." 
But,  no :  the  English  laws  did  not  permit  it  at  all.  The 
English  Lord  Deputy  (as  the  Lord  Lieutenant  was  called  in 
those  days)  was  constantly  striving  to  keep  his  people  from 
the  Irish ;  teaching  them  to  hate  the  Irish ;  teaching  them 
in  all  things  to  abominate  and  detest  the  original  people  of 
the  country.  And  yet,  whenever  an  Englishman  escaped 
from  the  "  Pale,"  and  got  in  amongst  the  Irish,  in  a  few 
years  he  became  the  greatest  rebel  in  the  country. 

Then,  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  among  the  many 
other  acduta/ry  laws  that  that  good  lady  made  for  Ireland, 


150  IRELAND  AND  THE  USISff. 

she  made  a  law  that  no  cattle  or  produce  were  to  be  exported 
from  the  land.  Ireland,  at  that  time,  was  prosperous; 
moreover,  if  not  prosperous,  it  was  at  least  able  to  export  a 
large  quantity  of  cereals  and  of  cattle.  It  was  a  source  of 
comfort  to  the  people,  and  a  source  of  revenue.  But  the 
"good  Queen  Bess"  couldn't  see  that;  so  she  made  and 
passed  this  law,  that  there  was  to  be  no  more  exportation 
from  Ireland ;  and  she  condemned  the  people  at  once,  to  a 
life  of  inactivity  and  of  misery,  before  she  let  loose  her  ter- 
rible army  upon  them  for  their  extermination. 

The  Irish,  thus  turned  aside  from  agricultural  pursuits, 
because  they  had  no  vent  for  their  agricultural  productions, 
turned  their  attention,  with  their  genius  and  their  nimble 
fingers,  to  manufactures, — to  the  manufacture  especially  of 
woollens ;  and  soon  Irish  poplins,  Irish  laces,  Irish  woollen 
cloth,  were  well  known  in  all  the  markets  of  Europe,  and 
commanded  large  prices.  Yet,  we  read  that,  after  the  treaty 
of  Limerick,  William  of  Orange,  breaking  every  compact 
that  he  had  made  with  the  Irish  people,  actually  laid  such  a 
tax  upon  the  Irish  woollen  trade,  that  he  completely  destroyed 
it,  and  reducied  all  the  manufacturers,  and  all  the  tradesmen 
of  Ireland,  .to  beggary  and  ruin. 

But  the  question  does  not  deal  so  much  with  individual 
acts  of  any  tyrannical  prince  as  with  the  great  parliamentary 
question.  We  read  that,  from  the  first  days  of  the  English 
settlement  in  Ireland,  they  were  accustomed,  from  time  to 
time,  to  call  what  was  called  the  "  Council  of  the  Nation," 
that  is  to  say,  the  great  English  Lords,  who  came  over  and 
settled  within  the  *'  Pale,"  on  their  large  possessions,  were 
called  into  council,  to  make  laws  and  devise  certain  regula- 
tions for  the  people.  Thus,  in  the  reign  of  King  John, 
these  Councils  were  held ;  in  the  reigns  of  the  Edwards  these 
Councils  were  held ;  and  so  on,  until  the  first  great  Parlia- 
ment of  the  whole  Irish  Nation  was  called,  in  the  year  1612. 
But  you  must  know  that,  before  a  Parliament  of  the  whole 
nation  was  called,  there  was  a  "  Parliament  of  the  Pale." 
Now,  in  the  time  of  Henry  the  Seventh,  the  English  pos- 
sessed in  Ireland  only  four  counties; — the  counties  of  Dub- 
lin, Louth,  Kildare,  and  Meath.  These  held  their  own 
Parliaments.  What  kind  of  Parliaments  were  they  ?  Year 
after  year  they  came  together  only  to  pass  laws  against  their 
Irish  fellow-citizens ;  only  to  execute  every  wicked  and  bruf 


''THE  VOLUNTEERS  OF  '82."  151 

tal  mandate  that  they  received  from  England ;  only  to  per- 
petuate divisions  and  divide  the  people  of  Ireland  more  and 
more.  They  were  not  only  tyrannical  at  home,  these  Par- 
liaments, but  they  were  also  rebellious  against  the  English 
monarch  and  Parliament.  My  friends,  we  might  as  well 
tell  the  truth :  loyalty  does  not  seem  to  have  been  a  very 
prominent  virtue  among  them.  For  instance,  when  Henry 
the  Seventh  was  declared  King,  in  England,  two  impostors 
arose  to  dispute  his  crown, — Simnel  and  Warbeck.  The 
Anglo-Irish  Parliament  took  up  both  of  tbem.  Simnel  was 
crowned  King  in  Ireland, — in  Christ  Church,  in  Dublin- 
Then  they  sent  him  to  England,  and  some  soldiers  with  him ; 
and,  after  fighting  a  battle,  he  was  taken  prisoner  ;  and  the 
King  made  him  a  scullion  in  his  kitchen.  Scarcely  was  the 
pretender  Simnel  promoted  to  the  kitchen,  when  another  pre- 
tender arose,  who  said  he  was  the  youngest  son  of  Edward 
IV.,  who  was  supposed  to  have  been  slain  in  the  Tower. 
His  name  was  Perkin  Warbeck.  The  Irish  Parliament, — 
that  is  to  say,  the  Parliament  of  the  English  people  in  Ire- 
land,— took  him  up;  and  they  avowed  their  allegiance  to 
him.  King  Henry  the  Seventh  got  angry;  and  he  sent 
over  to  Ireland  a  gentleman,  Sir  Edward  Poyning.  This 
man  came  to  discover  what  was  the  cause  of  the  agitation  in 
the  EngUsh  portion  of  Ireland.  It  is  all  very  well  to  talk 
about  the  savagery  of  the  Irish ;  it  is  all  very  well  to  say 
that  amongst  them,  there  was  nothing  but  violence  going  on. 
Now,  here  is  what  the  English  Commissioner  and  Lord 
Lieutenant  of  Ireland  says;  when  he  came,  he  says,  that 
he  found  the  whole  land  was  full  of  murders,  robberies, 
and  other  manifold  extortions  and  oppressions.  By  whom 
were  they  committed  ?  By  the  Barons,  the  English  Barons, 
and  settlers  in  the  "  Pale."  Therefore  he  came  to  put  an 
end  to  that  state  of  things.  Secondly,  he  tells  them  that 
they  should  build  a  double-ditch,  six  feet  high,  between 
themselves  and  the  Irish.  Considering  the  state  of  affairs 
in  the  "  Pale,"  I  think  that  the  Irishmen  that  were  outside 
were  likely  to  gain  a  great  deal  more,  in  morality,  in  virtue, 
and  in  religion  by  the  building  of  that  ditch  than  the  English 
who  were  within.  The  building  of  that  great  dyke,  that 
passed  from  the  Anna  Liffey  on  to  the  base  of  the  moun- 
tains of  Kildare,  on  the  one  side ;  and,  on  the  other  side, 
passed  up  near  the  town  of  Trim,  in  Meath, — embracing  the 


152  IRELAND  AIW  THE  IRISH. 

two  counties  of  Meath  and  Kildare, — ^the  building  of  that 
dyke  to  keep  out  the  Irish,  reminds  me  of  a  story  told  of  a 
poor  man  down  in  my  own  province,  who  was  building  a 
wall  around  a  field,  about  an  acre  or  an  acre  and  a  half,  of 
nothing  but  limestone,  where  there  was  not  a  single  blade  of 
grass.  A  gentleman  who  was  jDassing  said  to  him :  "  What 
on  earth  are  you  doing  that  for  ? — is  it  to  keep  the  cattle 
in  ?  "  "  No,  your  honor,"  replied  the  man,  "  but  to  keep 
the  crathers  out,  for  fear  they  might  have  the  misfortune. to 
get  in." 

The  third  law  that  Poyning  made  was  the  most  impor- 
tant of  all.  It  was  to  this  effect :  that  no  Parliament  in  Ire- 
land was  to  have  any  right  to  make  laws,  unless  they  fii-st 
submitted  these  laws  to  England.  They  had  no  right  to  as- 
semble in  Parliament  without  the  Lord  Lieutenant's  per- 
mission. If  any  man  had  a  measure  to  propose  in  Parlia- 
ment, it  had  to  be  sent  over  to  England  to  get  the  permission 
of  the  English  King,  before  it  could  be  laid  before  the  Par- 
liament. This  law  completely  subjugated  Ireland  to  Engr 
land.  The  Parliament,  of  course,  passed  whatever  laws  they 
were  commanded  to  pass.  And  so  it  went  on, — one  law 
worse  than  another;  the  very  vilest  ordinances  of  Queen 
Elizabeth  were  recognized  in. the  form  of  law  by  the  Irish 
Parliament.  When  Charles  the  First  encroached  upon  the 
liberty  of  the  people,  his  best  man,  Wentworth,  found  his 
help  in  the  Irish  Parliament ;  and  England,  in  the  days  of 
Charles  the  Second,  took  the  money  of  Ireland, — the  money 
that  was  to  pay  the  interest  of  the  National  Debt, — and  put 
it  into  the  pocket  of  the  profligate  King ;  and  the  Irish  Par- 
liament had  -not  a  word  to  say.  And  why  ?  Because  they 
did  not  represent  the  Irish  people  at  all. 

In  the  year  1753, — the  year  that  George  the  Second  died, 
— Ireland  was  practically  governed  by  a  vagabond,  the 
Protestant  Bishop  of  Armagh, — his  name  was  Hugh  Boulter. 
He  was  Bishop  of  Bristol,  in  England,  and  had  been  pro- 
moted to  be  Primate  of  Ireland.  Do  you  know  what  that 
ruffian  did  ?  He  brought  a  law  before  the  Irish  Parliament 
disfranchising  every  Catholic  in  Ireland,  and  passed  the  law 
v/ithout  the  slightest  murmur.  There  was  not  a  man  in  that 
House  that  spoke  or  offered  an  argument  for  the  Catholic 
Irish,  who  were  thus  deprived  of  all  voice  in  their  National 
affairs. 


^^THE  VOLUNTEEBS  OF 'SZ.''-  153 

At  length  the  divided  nation  united  upon  a  most  sfa*ange 
question.  They  ran  short  of  copper  money  in  Ireland. 
There  were  no  pence,  or  half-pence,  or  farthings ;  and  the 
people  began  to  complain ;  they  had  not  the  currency  where- 
with to  buy  and  sell.  So  the  King  of  England,  George  the 
Second,  under  his  own  hand,  gave  command  to  an  English- 
man, a  coiner  named  Wood,  to  coin  one  hundred  and  eighty 
thousand  pounds  in  copper  coin.  After  the  Englishman 
had  taken  the  contract,  mark  how  he  fulfilled  it.  He  bought 
six  thousand  pounds  worth  of  old  bi-ass,  and  he  coined  one 
hundred  and  eighty  thousand  pounds  worth  of  money  for 
Ireland  out  of  the  six  thousand  pounds  worth  of  old  brass. 
There  is  an  old  name  for  a  bad  penny  or  a  bad  half-penny  in 
Ireland:  they  call  it  a  "tinker."  Well,  the  "tinkers" 
arrived  in  Ireland, — the  English  "tinkers," — Wood's  "tink- 
ers ; "  and,  when  the  Irish  people  looked  at  them, — tossed 
them  up  and  caught  them  again — they  got  mad ;  and  every 
man  in  Ireland,  gentle  and  simple,  united,  for  the  first  time 
in  our  history,  in  resisting  a  few  bad  half-pence.  It  is  a 
singular,  and,  indeed,  a  droll  fact.  The  people  that  never 
united  on  the  question  of  their  national  independence,  were 
united,  like  one  man,  in  resisting  a  few  bad  half-pence  that 
were  sent  over  from  England.  This  was  the  first  stroke  at 
England.  It  was  two  hundred  years  ago,  in  the  days  of 
Dean  Swift, — and  the  Dean  hated  bad  money.  The  moment 
that  the  Irish  were  united,  and  said  to  England:  "Take 
back  that  money ;  we  won't  have  it,"  that  moment  the  Eng- 
lish King  was  obliged  to  take  back  his  own  commission; 
and  Mr.  Wood  got  back  his  bad  money.  It  was  a  small 
thing,  but  it  taught  the  Irish  people  a  lesson-»-a  glorious 
lesson — a  lesson  that  every  true-hearted  Irishman  should 
preach, — the  glorious  lesson  of  union  and  concord  amongst 
all  classes  of  Irishmen.  It  was  very  unwise  of  England  to 
afford  us  such  an  opportunity  of  uniting.  So  long  as  it  was 
a  question  of  race  she  could  keep  us  apart :  so  long  as  it 
was  a  question  of  Nationality  she  could  keep  us  divided ; 
but  no  man, — be  he  Protestant,  or  Methodist,  or  Quaker,  or 
Presbyterian,  or  Catholic, — no  man  likes  to  have  a  bad 
penny  thrust  upon  him  when  he  ought  to  have  a  good  one. 
The  moment  the  Irish  found  that,  by  uniting  upon  any  ques- 
tion they  could  gain  whatever  they  wanted,  they  discovered 
the  grand  secret  of  national  success. 
7* 


154:  IRELAND  AND  TEE  JBISH. 

Events  followed  each  other  quickly.  There  was,  at  this 
time,  an  Irishman  named  Molyneaux,  who  wrote  a  book 
called,  "  The  Case  of  Ireland  Stated,"  that  proved  so  clearly 
the  claims  of  Ireland  to  National  freedom,  that  the  book 
was  burned  in  London  by  the  common  hangman.  The 
eventful  year  of  1775  came.  America  was  up  in  arms. 
England  dealt  with  her  the  way  she  dealt  with  Ireland. 
She  was  accustomed  to  impose  taxes  upon  us  without  asking 
our  leave.  She  laid  an  embargo,  upon  our  commerce ;  she 
destroyed  our  trade ;  and  she  thought  she  had  nothing  to  do 
but  just  do  the  same  thing  to  Brother  Jonathan,  over  the 
water,  that  she  was  doing  to  poor  Paddy  at  home.  But 
Jonathan  was  a  man  of  other  mettle, — more  power  to  him ! 
The  Colonists  of  North  America  rose  in  arms.  England 
would  not  give  them  tea  to  drink  without  laying  a  tax  upon 
it ;  and  when  the  tea  arrived  in  Boston,  they  took  it  out  of 
the  ships  and  flung  it  into  the  sea.  At  first,  as  we  know, 
America  had  no  idea  or  wish  to  separate  from  England: 
they  only  wanted  to  assert  their  rights,  fairly  and  conscien- 
tiously; and  they  appealed  to  the  British  Constitution, — 
just  as  Grattan  did  in  Ireland,  when  he  said :  "I  am  ready 
to  die  for  England ;  but  I  must  have  her  charter  in  my  hand, 
even  when  I  am  dead  I  "  They  only  asked  the  law  that 
England's  glorious  Constitution  has  provided  for  her  sub- 
jects, if  that  law  were  fairly  administered :  for  the  law  is 
just;  the  charter  is  grand ;  the  Constitution  is,  perhaps,  the 
grandest  thing  in  the  world  after  the  Catholic  Church.  But 
the  Constitution  has  been  warped ;  its  benefits  have  been 
denied,  over  and  over  again,  to  the  people ;  and  the  law  has 
been  admiiystered  in  a  partial  and  unjust  spirit.  Well,  my 
friends,  1775  saw  America  in  arms.  England  was  obliged 
to  send  every  available  soldier  that  she  had  here ;  and  not 
only  this,  but,  to  her  eternal  disgrace,  she  poured  her 
Hessian  mercenaries  in  upon  America;  and  she  hired  the 
North  American  Indians  to  cut  the  throats  of  the  Colonists 
and  scalp  them.  I  don't  know,  I  confess,  why  there  should 
be  this  great  friendship, — this  great  "  cousinship,"  and  all 
this  talk  about  '*  blood  thicker  than  water,"  which  you 
always  hear  between  England  and  America.  When  an  Eng- 
lishman speaks  in  America,  of  "  blood  thicker  than  water," 
you  may  ask,  if  it  was  so  very  thick,  why  did  England  hire 
the  Hessians  to  shed  it  ?     Why  did  she  hire  the  Indiana  to 


"  THE  VOLUNTEERS  OF  '82."  155 

shed  it,  if  it  was  so  very  warm,  so  very:  friendly  ?  It  suits 
England  to-day,  in  the  hour  of  her  decline  dnd  weakness,  to 
be  constantly  talking  to  Americans  about  the  "  same  race  " 
and  *'  a  common  origin ; "  but  it  was  a  pretty  manner  in 
which  she  served  her  own  race  in  the  American  Revolution. 

A  call  was  made  upon  Ireland  for  four  thousand  troops. 
The  Anglo-Irish  Government  said  :  "  Give  us  the  Irish  sol- 
diers, and  we  will  give  you  four  thousand  Hessians  to  keep 
Ireland  quiet;  and  it  was  added,  by  way  of  inducement, 
that  all  the  Hessians  were  the  very  best  of  Protestants. 
Now,  mark  how  significant  that  is.  We  are  told  that  the 
Irish  were  men  unable  to  fight ;  told  that  they  never  made  a 
good  battle  in  any  cause ;  we  are  told  that  the  attribute  of 
bravery  in  the  Irish  character  is  a  doubtful  one,  and,  in  a 
word,  scarcely  due  to  us.  Now,  may  I  ask,  if  England 
thought  that  four  thousand  Irishmen  would  not  fight  as  well 
as  four  thousand  Hessians,  why  did  she  ask  for  the  Irish- 
men and  ignore  the  Hessians?  Why  did  she  not  send  the 
Hessians  to  America  instead  of  sending  them  to  Ireland  and 
taking  the  poor  Irish  ?  It  was  because  she  knew  well  that 
perhaps  the  Hessian  might  turn,  his  back,  but  the  Irish- 
man would  fight  till  he  died. 

Well,  my  friends,  the  Irish  Parliament  gave  them  four 
thousand  soldiers ;  but,  for  once  in  their  lives,  they  had  a 
ray  of  the  grace  of  God  upon  them,  and  refused  to  take  the 
Hessians.  They  said :  "  No ;  we  will  not  take  any  foreign 
mercenaries  into  Ireland  ;  but  we  will  tell  you  what  we  will 
do :  If  you  will  give  us  arms,  we  will  organize  volunteers 
for  the  defence  of  the  counttry."  The  moment  the  word  was 
mentioned  in  Belfast,  in  the  north,  Irish  volunteer  compa- 
nies were  formed.  Irishmen  stood  again  shoulcler  to  shoul- 
der. The  Government,  reluctantly,  in  1779,  gave  them 
arms;  and  Ireland,  in  six  months,  beheld  a  native  army  of 
fifty  thousand  men,  as  well  organized  and  drilled  as  any 
army  in  the  world.  The  Volunteer  organization  spread ; 
the  nation  made  them  presents  of  artillery ;  the  first  ladies 
in  Ireland  wove  their  flags.  They  were  of  all  classes  of 
men,  officered  by  the  best  nobility  in  the  land.  Lord 
Charlemont,  Henry  Grattan,  and  the  Duke  of  Leinster,  and 
Henry  Flood — all  the  highest  intellects  in  Ireland — the 
noblest  and  best  blood  of  the  country,  were  at  the  head  of 
the  "Volunteers."     In  1781,  according  to  Sir  Jonah  Bar- 


156  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

rington,  their  numbers  had  swelled  into  eighty  thousand, 
perfectly  drilled  and  perfectly  organized  men.  The  origina- 
tor of  all  this  was  the  famous  Henry  Flood,  a  man  intoler- 
ant in  his  religious  ideas, — for  he  hated  us,  Catholics,  "  as 
the  devil  hates  holy  water."  But,  although  intolerant  in  re- 
ligion, he  was  a  man  of  great  inind  and  of  great  love  for  Ire- 
land. So  soon  as  the  English  Government  saw  the  willing- 
ness of  these  men,  springing  up  all  over  the  land ;  under 
the  Earl  of  Clanricarde,  in  Galway  and  Mayo ;  in  the  south, 
under  O'Brien ;  in  the  north,  under  other  chieftains ;  in 
Leinster,  under  the  Earl  of  Kildare,  Lord  Charlempnt,  Henry 
G rattan,  Flood,  Hussey  Burgh,  and  others,  the  English  Gov- 
ernment got  afraid  of  their  lives  and  wanted  them  disbanded, 
and  to  get  their  arms  back.  But  Ireland  was  armed ;  and 
then  the  immortal  Henry  Grattan  assembled  their  leaders. 
Flood  was  amongst  them.  Lord  Charlemont  and  other  dis- 
tinguished members  of  the  Irish  Parliament.  When  they 
all  met  together,  they  asked  the  significant  question  :  "  Now 
that  we  have  fifty  thousand  men  armed,  what  are  we  going 
to  do  with  them  ?  The  answer  to  the  question  came  from 
the  fiery  soul  and  the  gr^at  head  of  the  immortal  Grattan. 
He  said  : — "  Now  that  we  have  them  at  our  back,  we  can 
speak  as  an  united  nation.  We  will  not  allow  them  to  lay 
down  their  arms  until  we  have  achieved  legislative  and  re- 
ligious independence  for  Ireland."  Accordingly,  in  1779,  as 
soon  as  ever  the  "  Volunteers  "  were  got  together,  Grattan 
brought  into  the  Irish  House  of  Commons  a  proposition  to 
abolish  Sir  Edward  Poyning's  Law,  which  declared  that  the 
Irish  could  not  make  laws  for  themselves,  unless  they  first 
got  permission  of  the  English  King.  He  proposed  this  in 
the  Irish  Parliament.  All  the  weight  of  the  English  Gov- 
ernment was  against  him ;  all  the  rottenness  of  the  country 
was  against  him ;  but  the  streets  of  Dublin  were  lined  with 
the  "  Volunteers  ; "  they  had  their  cannon  drawn  up  in  the 
square  before  the  House  of  Commons ;  and  they  had  cards 
around  the  mouths  of  the  guns,  inscribed—"  Justice  to  Ire- 
land ;  or  else — ." 

Poyning's  law  was  repealed.  The  English  King  was  only 
too  giad  to  say  :  "  Gentlemen,  Ireland  has  a  right  to  make 
her  own  laws  ;  make  them  for  yourselves."  A  few  weeks 
later,  Grattan  brought  in  another  bill;  and  it  was  that 
there  was  no  more  restriction  to  be   laid  upon  the  trade 


''TEE  V0LUNTEEB8  OF  '82."  157 

of  Ireland.  He  said :  "  You  have  ruined  our  woollen 
trade.  You  are  ruining  our  linen  trade  with  excessive  tax- 
ation." It  was  just  when  the  American  revolution  had 
broken  out,  and  England  had  such  a  regard  toward  the  peo- 
ple of  America,  she  made  a  law  prohibiting  the  Irish  to  send 
any  cattle  or  food  of  any  kind  to  America.  It  is  .easy,  to- 
day, to  say  that  the  Catholics  were  all  opposed  to  America. 
If  the  Catholics  of  Ireland  were  always  opposed  to  America, 
and  to  her  cause,  why  did  England  make  a  law  to  oblige  us 
to  send  no  help  or  succor  in  the  way  of  food  to  America  ? 
The  law  had  crushed  our  commerce  and  trade.  Grattan 
brought  in  his  Bill,  in  April,  1779.  Once  more  the.  Govern- 
ment of  England  was  opposed  to  him.  Once  more  the  King 
wrote  over  to  the  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland :  **  Don't 
send  me  any  bill  that  will  release  Ireland.  I  will  not  hear 
of  it.  I  won't  sign  it."  Grattan  proposed  his  bill  in  the 
House  of  Commons ;  and  the  slavish  House  was  afraid  to 
pass  it.  They  tore  it,  before  his  eyes ;  it  was  thrown  at 
him;  but  Grattan  fell  back  upon  his  fifty  thousand  men, 
and  said :  "  Here — here  are  the  men  with  arms  in  their 
hands,  with  flags  tossing  and  waving  for  Ireland.  You 
must  give  her  commercial  freedom."  An  united,  an  armed 
nation  spoke  these  words,  and  they  were  obliged  to  suspend 
and  to  repeal  every  law,  and  to  declare,  with  the  sanction  and 
signature  of  tlig  English  King,  that  Ireland  was  free  to  trade 
in  her  woollen  manufactures  and  all  her  exports  with  the 
West  Indies,  with  America,  or,  in  fact,  with  any  nation. 

Then  Grattan  made  this  memorable  remark  in  his  speech 
to  the  Irish  Parliament ;  he  said :  "  Gentlemen,  your  fore- 
fathers, sitting  in  this  House,  sold  and  destroyed  the  trade 
and  liberty  of  Ireland.  Now,  I  have  returned  to  her  her  trade, 
and  now  I  demand  that  you  return  to  Ireland  her  liberty." 
The  fifty  thousand  by  this  time  were  become  eighty  thou- 
sand ;  and  on  that  glorious  April  day  of  1782,  Henry  Grat- 
tan proposed  in  the  Irish  Parliament,  and  it  was  passed  and 
sanctified  as  a  law,  that  Ireland  was  a  free  nation,  wearing 
an  imperial  crown ;  in  these  memorable  words  ; 

"It  is  enacted  that  the  crown  of  Ireland  is  an  imperial 
crown,  and  inseparably  annexed  to  Great  Britain,  on  which 
connection  the  interest  and  happine&s.  of  both  nations  essen- 
tially depend.  But  that  the  kingdom  of  Ireland  is  a  distinct 
kingdom,  with  a  Parliament  of  her  own  and  legislative 


158  IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRISH. 

power ;  and  that  there  is  no  bodj-  of  men  competent  to  make 
laws  to  bind  this  nation,  except  the  King,  the  Lords  and  the 
Commons  of  Ireland." 

The  crown  of  Ireland  was  an  imperial  crown.  She  was  a 
nation,  with  her  own  Parliament,  he»  own  laws,  her  own 
genius,  h'fer  own  influence  over  hei*  own  resources  and  her 
own  debts ;  with  her  own  right  to  tax  herself;  her  own  laws 
to  execute,  and  every  other  right ;  and  she  merely  acknowl- 
edged the  union  with  England  in  the  interest  and  for  the 
well-being  of  both  countries.  That  was  the  declaration  of 
Henry  Grattan  ;  and  it  struck  terror  into  the  heart  of  Eng- 
land. It  was  the  most  magnificent  declaration  that  Ireland 
ever  made  of  her  nationality  and  her  claim  to  full  and  imperial 
freedom  as  a  nation  and  empire.  Grattan  had  eighty  thou- 
sand men  at  his  back ;  and  in  one  month  his  message  was 
sent  to  England.  "  I  send  this  law,"  he  said,  "  to  England ; 
I  give  England  one  month  to  decide;  and  if  she  decide  not 
in  one  month — there  are  the  men!  "  That  was  on  the  17th 
of  April,  1782.  Before  the  month  was  over, — ^before  the 
17th  of  May, — it  came  back  acknowledged  by  the  English 
Parliament,  and  signed  by  the  English  King ; — acknowledg- 
ing that  Ireland's  crown  was  an  imperial  crown — that  Ire- 
land was  a  nation,  united,  and,  in  truth,  perfectly  equal  with 
England ; — that  the  English  Parliament  had  no  right  or  title 
under  Heaven  to  govern  Ireland,  but  only  tlie  Irish  Parlia- 
ment, submitting  to  the  English  crown.  Then  Grattan  made 
his  famous  speech  in  the  Irish  Parliament.  He  said :  "  I 
found  Ireland  upon  her  knees.  I  lifted  her  up.  I  watched 
her  as  she  took  her  place  amongst  the  nations ;  I  saw  the 
crown  upon  her  head.  And,  now,  all  that  remains  for  me  is 
to  bow  before  that  august  form,  and  pray — *  £Jsto  perpetual 
— be  thou  perpetual." 

This  was  the  climax  of  the  triumph  of  the  "  Volunteers." 
They  had  gained  all  they  asked  or  sought  for  Ireland.  One 
year  later,  they  met  in  convention ;  and  I  regret  to  have  to 
say  what  I  am  about  to  say.  Their  Generals  and  officers 
met  and  took  measures  for  the  reformation  of  the  Irish  Par- 
liament, and  to  consider  the  reprjesentation  of  the  people. 
When  it  was  proposed  to  these  officers  and  Generals  of  the 
"  Volunteers  "  to  demand  the  emancipation  of  three  millions 
of  Catholics,  in  Ireland, — to  my  heart's  regret  I  have  to  sav 
it, — ^they  refused  to  grant  to  these  emancipation,  or  to  peti- 


(( 


THE  VOLUIfTJEMRS  OF  »82."  159 


tion  for  it.  They  refused  to  give  to  their  Catholic  fellow- 
countrymen  the  liberty  which  they  had  won  for  themselves. 
And  Catholic  Ireland  felt  her  heart  within  her  growing  faint, 
and  breakings — to  see  the  very"  force  in  which  she  had  put 
her  trust,  now  wanting  in  the  hour  of  her  danger  and  of  her 
strength.  At  the  same  time,  deserted  by  their  brethren, 
their  Catholic  countrymen  lost  heart  in  them.  When  they 
were  organized  no  Catholic  was  allowed  to  enter  the  ranks  of 
the  "  Volunteers,"  or  to  carry  arms.  The  poor  Catholics  of 
Ireland  collected  and  sent  money  to  Dublin ;  they  sent 
£100,000  to  provide  uniforms  for  their  Protestant  fellow-cit- 
izens. After  a  time,  as  the  American  war  went  on,  and  the 
Colonists  waxed  stronger,  England  got  more  fearful.  And, 
when  Burgoyne  was  taken  prisoner,  and  when  Clinton  retired, 
before  the  unconquerable  sword  of  Washington,  England  was 
obliged  to  permit  the . Catholics  to  join  the  "Volunteers." 
Instantly  the  Irish  Catholics  sprang  into  the  ranks,  and  took 
their  arms  into  their  hands.  Without  one  feeling  of  rebel- 
lion or  disloyalty,  but  only  the  pure  love  of  Ireland,  they 
stood  prepared  to  die  for  the  liberties  of  their  fellow-country- 
men, as  well  as  their  own.  '    . 

Then  came  the  sad  dispersion.  The  English  Government 
had  introduced  the  elemei^  of  disunion  even  among  the 
"  Volunteers."  Some  were  in  favor  of  emancipating  the 
Catholics ;  others  were  not.  A  fatal  division  was  introduced, 
and  then  a  law  was*  quietly  brought  into  the  Irish  Parlia- 
ment, that  it  would  be  better  to  increase  the  regular  army 
to  twenty  thousand  men, — not  fifteen  hundred,  but  twenty 
thousand  men.  It  was  also  passed  that  they  should  give 
twenty  thousand  pounds  towards  arming  the  militia ;  and  in 
three  or  four  short  years  the  "  Volunteers  "  were  dispersed  ; 
their  arms  were  taken  from  their  hands  and  put  into  the 
hands  of  a  militia  entirely  controlled  by  military  officers,  who 
were  all  English.     The  last  hope  of  Ireland  died  for  a  time. 

Then  began  the  series  of  bad  laws.  The  "  Convention 
Act "  was  passed.  As  soon  as  they  found  that  the  "  Volun- 
teers "  were  disbanded,  they  knew  that  they  could  do  as  they 
liked  with  the  liberties  of  Ireland.  One  of  the  first  laws 
they  made  was  that  it  was  not  lawful  for  Irishmen  to  hold 
political  conventions,  or  any  other  kind  of  conventions,  or 
nominate  delegates  who  were  to  speak  on  any  occasion,  on 
any  subject.      One  injustice  followed  another;    until  the 


160  mELAND  AITD  THE  IRISH. 

country,  inflamed  by  the  maxims  of  the  mighty  French 
Revolution,  goaded  to  desperation,  made  the  ineffectual 
effort  of  '98.  Then,  crushed,  wounded,  bleeding,  deceived 
and  degraded,  nothing  remained  but  for  the  accursed  Cas- 
tlereagh  to  walk  over  the  prostrate  ruin,  and  over  the 
bodies  of  his  countrymen,  and  in  spite  of  oaths  and  treaties 
— ^in  spite  of  the  signature  of  the  Eling,  declaring  that  Ire- 
land alone  had  a  right  to  make  her  own  laws — ^in  the  year 
1800  they  took  the  Parliament  from  us  ;  and  from  that  day 
to  this  our  laws  are  made  for  us  by  Englishmen. 

Thus  ended  the  movement  of  the  "  Volunteers ; "  but  the 
lesson  which  it  teaches  has  not  died  with  the  glorious  effort. 
My  friends,  it  is  not  a  lesson  of  revolution  or  of  rebellion 
that  this  glorious  movement  of  '82  teaches ;  it  is  the  higher 
lesson  of  union  among  Irishmen.  It  was  not  the  "Irish 
Volunteers  "  that  the  English  feared,,  so  much,  though  they 
were  a  powerful  army,  it  is  true ;  but  their  main  strength 
lay  in  the  fact  that  they  had  three  millions  of  their  Catholic 
fellow-countrymen  united  to  them  heart  and  soul.  It  was 
not  Ireland  armed,  but  Ireland  united,  that  made  the  tyrant 
tremble,  and  made  the  English  Government  sign  every  bill 
as  soon  as  it  was  put  forth.  A  singular  example  of  the 
union  v/hich  bound  up  all  these  men  was  given  at  that  time. 
Some  of  the  Belfast  and  Antrim  "  Volunteers  "  were  Prot- 
estants,— all  Orangemen  to  a  man ;  yet,  so  united  were  they 
in  that  day,  with  their  Catholic  fellow-countrymen,  and  all 
classes  of  men,  in  that  perfect  union,  that  they  actually 
meu-ched  out,  one  Sunday,  and  heard  Mass.  Ireland  was 
united.  Of  course,  there  must  be  religious  divisions  where 
there  is  difference  of  religion.  If  \  can't  unite  with  my  fel- 
low-countryman in  believing  what  he  believes, — or  rather  to 
pare  down  my  belief  till  it  comes  to  nothing  to  suit  him, — am 
I,  therefore,  to  say  to  him,  "  Stand  aside  ?  "  am  I  therefore, 
to  say  to  him,  **  We  have  no  common  country :  I  have  noth- 
ing in  common  with  you  ?  "  Oh,  no !  The  most  glorious 
battles  of  modern  times  have  been  fought  in  the  trenches 
where  the  Protestant  and  Catholic  stood  side  by  side.  And 
"  England,  who  knows  so  well  how  to  divide  us  on  the  religious 
question  at  home,  knows  as  well  how  to  unite  us  abroad,  in  the 
ranks  of  her  army.  The  88th  "  Connaught  Rangers  "  were 
Catholics  to  a  man ;  and  they  were  side  by  side,  on  the  field  of 
Waterloo,  with  the  Protestant  soldiers  of  the  north  of  Ireland 


"  TEE  VOLUNTEERS  OF  »83.' 


161 


and  of  England.  There  are  questions  second  only  in  their 
sacredness  to  that  of  religion,  which  is  first.  The  question 
of  Nationality  is  second  only  in  importance  to  the  religious 
question ;  because  on  that  great  National  question  depends 
what  Catholic  and  Protestant  alike  hold  dear, — public  lib- 
erty. On  this  great  question,  thanks  be  to  God,  every  man 
can  be  united  with  his  fellow-man,  no  matter  what  shade  of 
religious  division  may  exist  between  them.  I  accept  the 
word  of  the  English  historian  who  has  come  amongst  us,  in 
the  case  of  Ireland,-^!  accept  the  word  that  he  has  said.  If 
he  be  reported  rightly,  he  said,  that,  in  the  day  that  Ireland 
is  united,  Ireland  shall  be  invincible.  Away,  then,  with  all 
religious  animosity  that  would  interfere  with  man's  co-oper- 
ation with  his  fellow-man  for  native  land !  Away  with  that 
fatal  division  that  would  fain  make  one  Ireland  for  the 
Protestant  Irishman  and  another  for  the  Catholic  Irishman, 
— whereas  the  "Green  Island"  is  the  common  motherland 
of  all !  My  Catholic  countrymen,  at  the  peril  of  your  eternal 
salvation,  be  as  firm  as  the  granite  rock  upon  every  principle 
of  your  Church  and  your  religion ;  be  as  conservative  of 
that  faith  as  you  are  of  your  immortal  souls,  else  you  will 
lose  that  faith,  and  those  souls  with  it.  But,  I  say  to  you, 
just  as  you  are  to  be  as  conservative  in  your  ^ith  as  you  can 
be,  so,  upon  the  gi*and  question  upon  which  the  freedom  and 
happiness  of  the  dear  old  land  depends,  be  as  liberal,  as 
large-hearted,  as  truly  united  upon  it  as  you  are  to  be  strong 
and  united  upon  the  question  of  your  own  religion.  Then 
shall  the  future,  seen  by  the  prophetic  eye  of  Grattan,  when 
he  hailed  his  Ireland  as  an  independent  nation,  be  realized 
by  the  men  of  to-day.  Then  shall  the  dream  of  the  lover 
and  the  aspiration  of  the  patriot  shine  forth  in  the  glory  of 
its  fulfilment ;  when  domestic  laws,  made  by  Irishmen,  for 
Ireland  and  for  Irishmen,  shall  govern  the  state  affairs  of 
Ireland ;  when  every  want  of  Ireland  shall  be  the  best  fore- 
thought of  Irish-loving  minds  and  intellects ;  when  every 
Irish  question  shall  have  the  fir§t  place  paramount  in  the 
deliberations  of  an  Irish  Parliament ;  when,  from  out  the 
intellect  and  the  fulness  of  the  heart  of  Ireland,  in  the  future 
day,  shall  beam  around  my  motherland,  and  realize  the  glories 
of  days  long  j^ast,  the  sun  that  has  set  for  so  many  years,  in 
clouds  of  blood, — but  which  shall  rise  serenely  in  the  new 
Orient  of  freedom,  for  dear  old*much-loved  Ireland. 


"  EODERIO  O'CONOR,  THE  LAST  MON^ARCH 

OF  IRELAND." 

{Lecture  delivered  by  the  Very  Bev.  T.  N.  Burke^  O.  P.,  in  1M 
Academy  of  Music^  Brooklyn^  November  3,  1873.) 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen:  Generally  speaking,  when  a 
man  comes  to  speak  on  an  Irish  subject,  he  has  some  room, 
some  scope,  some  opportunity  of  making  his  audience  laugh, 
or,  at  least,  smile;  there  is  so  much  of  humor,  or,  if  you 
will,  fun,  in  the  national  character,  that  it  is  almost  impos- 
sible to  avoid  laughter  in  the  discussion  of  an  Irish  subject. 
I  regret  to  say  that  I  will  not  create  a  single  smile  on  your 
faces  to-night.  I  am  come  to  discuss  the  history  of  a  dying 
Nationality,  and  its  last  King.  I  aoi  come  to  tell  you  of 
your  own  fathers  and  mine, — how  they  lost  the  last  greatest 
gift  of  God,  after  that  of  divine  faith,  namely,  the  gift  of 
their  freedom  and  of  their  national  liberty.  The  theme 
which  I  am  come  to  discuss  before  you  this  evening  is  the 
life  and  the  times  and  the  character  of  Ireland's  last  king, 
Roderic  O'Conor ; — as  brave  a  man,  perhaps,  as  ever  drew  a 
sword  for  God  and  for  fatherland ; — as  unfortunate  a  man  as 
ever  was  doomed  to  preserve  his  dignity,  and  to  go  down  to 
his  grave  in  the  midst  of  misfortunes,  but  without  a  taint  of 
dishonor. 

Now,  in  order  that  we  may  understand  the  times  and  the 
life  of  this  man  properly,  I  must  invite  your  attention  to 
the  close  of  that  dreadful  contest  which  took  place  between 
the  Irish  and  the  Danes.  For  three  hundred  years,  Ireland 
was  peaceable  and^happy, — the  home  of  saints  and  of  scholars, 
— the  imiversity  of  the  Christian  world,  and  the  light  of  the 
ages,  from  the  fifth  down  to  the  close  of  the  eighth  century. 
For  three  hundred  years  the  whole  world  beheld  her  light, 
and  gloried  in  the  brightness  thereof.  Her  Saints  went 
forth  from  her  green  bosom,  and  evangelized  the  whole 
world.  Every  nation  in  Europe, — aye,  down  even  to  the 
South  of  Italy, — preserves  the  memory  of  the  Irish  Saints, 
and  love^  to  dwell,  year  by  year,  upon  the  virtues  and  tho 


BOnSRIG  CPCONOB, 


163 


grandeur  of  character  of  the  men  who  came  from  the  fair 
isle  of  the  Western  ocean,  to  preach  to  them  the  Gospel  of 
Christ,  and  His  sanctity. 

Then  came  that  fearful  invasion  that  swept  simultaneously 
over  Ireland,  over  England,  and  over  France.  The  North- 
men,— those  fierce,  tall,  blue-eyed,  fair-haired  warriors  of 
the  North, — pagans,  who  adored  Odin  and  Thor,  and  the 
Scandinavian  gods^ — zealous  for  the  cause  of  their  false 
divinities, — zealous,  because  of  the  bravery  of  their  spirit, 
and  their  indomitable  heart, — they  swept  over  all  the  North- 
western countries  of  Europe ;  they  subdued  England,  fixed 
themselves  in  the  North  of  France,  and  invaded  Ireland. 
For  more  than  two  centuries,  every  year  beheld  a  new  army 
of  the  Danes  poured  into  the  land.  Still  the  Irish  Gael  met 
them,  hilt  to  hilt,  and  foot  to  foot,  and  disputed  every  inch 
of  Irish  land,  and  fought  them  as  only  men  can  fight  who 
are  animated  by  a  true  love  for  God,  for  the  altar  of  God, 
and  for  their  native  land.  Sad  and  weary  was  the  contest-. 
An  army  was  defeated  on  one  day,  only  to  reproduce  itself 
on  the  morrow  in  the  shape  of  a  new  army  landed  from  the 
Northern  Seas. 

Finally,  towards  the  end  of  the  third  century  of  the  Dan- 
ish invasion,  Almighty  God  gave  to  Ireland  one  of  His  grand- 
est and  highest  gifts,  namely,  a  man,  heroic  in  mind,  heroic 
in  heart,  capable  of  comprehending  the  situation,  capable 
of  understanding  the  wants  of  his  age, — a  man  who  was 
able  to  bind  up  all  the  incoherent  elements  of  the  nation,  to 
make  them  as  one  man,  and  then,  united,  to  lead  them  against 
the  common  foe ;  and  that  was  the  illustrious  and  immortal 
Brian,  King  of  Munster,  commonly  called  Brian  Boroimhe. 
History  acknowledges  that,  amongst  its  heroes,  amongst  the 
men  of  that  twelfth  century,  amongst  all  those  that  figured 
in  the  various  lands  of  Europe, — the  greatest  and  most  mas- 
sive character  that  shines  out,  is  the  character  of  the  Irish 
monarch  and  hero,  who  was  able  to  lead  an  army  of  united 
Irishmen  into  the  plains  of  Clontarf,  and  to  vanquish  the 
Danes.  And  yet,  my  friends,  if  we  reflect  upon  it,  this 
man, — the  gi'andest  figure  in  our  history, — was  still  an 
usurper  of  the  National  crown.  You  know,  the  ancient 
constitution  of  Ireland,  under  the  Brehon  laws,  and  under 
the  system  of  tanistry,  was  that  each  province  of  the  four 
provinces   of  the   empire,  had  its  own  monarch   or  king. 


164  IRELAND  AND  THE  mi8H, 

There  was  a  King  of  Munster,  a  King  of  Leinster,  a  King 
of  Connaught,  and  ^  King  of  Ulster.  Four  great  leading 
families  governed  these  four  Provinces  for  two  thousand 
years  and  more,  under  the  ancient  Milesian  constitution. 
The  O'Conors,  of  Connaught;  the  O'Briens,  of  Munster; 
the  O'Neills  and  O'Donnells  of  Ulster;  McMurroughs, 
O'Byrnes  and  O'Tooles,  of  Leinster.  Two  thousand  years 
before  Christ  was  born,  the  sons  of  Milesius  landed  in  Ireland 
from  the  coast  of  Spain.  The  ancient  Druid  or  prophet  of 
their  race,  foretold  to  them  that  it  was  their  destiny  to  land 
upon  and  to  colonize  the  green  island  of  the  West ;  and  the 
poet  describes  their  arriving  on  the  coast  of  Ireland  dream- 
ing of  their  destiny, — hoping  even  in  their  day-dreams,  to 
behold  the  Island  that  was  to  be  theirs : — 

"  They  came  from  a  land  beyond  the  sea ; 
And  now  o'er  the  Western  main, 
Set  sail  in  their  good  ships,  gallantly, 
From  the  sunny  land  of  Spain. 
'  Oh !  Where's  the  isle  we've  seen  in  dreams,— 
Our  destined  home  or  grave  ? — ^ 
Thus  sang  they,  as,  by  the  morning's  beams, 
-They  swept  the  Atlantic  wave. 

*'  When,  lo  I  where  afar  o'er  ocean  shines 
A  sparkle  of  radiant  green, 
As  though  in  the  deep  lay  emerald  mines, 
Whose  light  through  the  waves  was  seen. 
*  'Tis  Innisf ail !  'tis  Innisfail  I ' 
Rings  o'er  the  echoing  sea ; 
While  bending  to  Heaven,  the  warriors  hail 
The  home  of  the  brave  and  free. 

*'  Then  turn  they  unto  the  Eastern  wave, 

Where  now  their  day-god's  eye 
A  look  of  such  sunny  omen  gave 

As  lighted  up  sea  and  sky. 
No  cloud  was  seen  o'er  earth  or  sea, 

No  tear  on  leaf  or  sod, 
When  first  on  their  Jsle  of  Destiny 

Our  great  forefathers  trod.'!- 


BODERIC  CPCONOR 


165 


They  brooglit  with  them  that  peculiar  constitution,  the 
grandest,  perhaps,  of  any  ancient  form  of  government  that 
existed, — the  most  like  to  that  grand  Republican  govern- 
ment under  which  you  citizens  of  the  United  States  live 
to-day.  There  was  no  serfdom  amongst  them.  No  Celtic 
man  was  ever  bom,  or  ever  lived,  or  ever  died  as  a  serf  or 
slave.  It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  my  friends,  that  nearly 
every  country, — aye,  every  country  in  Europe  began  under 
the  system  of  serfdom  and  slavery.  The  common  people,  as 
they  were  called — the  mdgus — wei'e  mere  serfs  attached  to 
the  soil.  If  a  nobleman,  a  great  man,  or  prince,  wished  to 
sell  his  estate,  he  not  only  sold  it,  but  he  also  sold  the 
people.  If  he  had  five  hundred  families  on  his  estate,  he 
sold  them  all :  they  were  transferred  from  him  to  another 
man  ;  and  they  had  to  serve  that  other  man,  as  they  served 
their  former  master.  This  system  of  serfdom  or  slavery 
was  the  original  condition  of  every  nationality  in  Europe, 
— as  it  was  in  Russia  down  to  our  own  days, — with  the  sole 
exception  of  Ireland.  In  Ireland,  certain  great  families 
ruled  the  land ;  and  they  were  all  "  Mac's  "  and  "  O's."  To 
this  day,  let  me  know  your  name ;  and  if  you  be  a  **  Mac  " 
or  an  "  O,"  I  can  tell  you  what  part  of  Ireland  you  or  your 
fathers  came  from.  Some  time  ago,  in  New  York,  a  poor 
fellow  came  to  me,  asking  me  to  give  him  a  letter,  to  get 
him  a  situation  as  porter  or  something,  in  soine  establish- 
ment. "When  J  sat  down  to  write  the  letter,  I  asked  him  : 
*'  What  is  your  name  ?  "  "  Well,  your  Reverence,"  he  said, 
"  I  am  a  McGuire."  "  And  what  made  you  leave  the 
county  Fermanagh  ?  "  "  Oh,  then,  God  knows,"  said  he ; 
*'  I  left  it  through  misfortune  ! "  If  you  hear  the  name  of 
an  O'Reilly  you  at  once  say ;  "  Oh !  he  came  from  the  county 
Cavan."  If,  on  the  other  hand,  a  poor  fellow  comes  into 
the  store  to  you,  and  says  ;  "  I  come  from  Ireland,  and  my 
name  is  McDermott,"  you  at  once  say :  "  Oh,  you  are  a 
Connaught  man."  If,  again,  a  tall,  square-shouldered,  dark- 
haired,  hazel-eyed  man  steps  in  like  a  giant,  and  stands  be- 
fore you, and  says :  "I  came  to  this  country ;  and  I  am  one 
of  the  O'Neils ; "  then  you  say :  "  Ah !  then  you  came 
from  Ulster,  my  friend — from  the  county  Tyrone."  There 
is  no  mistake  about  it ;  even  our  Korman  name  of  Burke  is 
altogether  Connaught. 

Well,  my  friends,  in  the  constitution  of  Ireland  there  was 


166  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

no  such  tiling  as  slavery, — every  man  was  free ;  every  man 
was  of  the  same  blood,  the  same  family,  the  same  name  with 
his  chieftain.  They  elected  their  chieftains ;  they  elected 
not  only  the  princes  of  the  name  and  of  the  line,  but  also 
the  "  tanist,"  or  man  who  had  the  right  to  succeed  him. 
If  the  King  of  Ireland  died,  his  son  did  not  succeed  him,  as 
the  Prince  of  Wales  would  succeed  Queen  Victoria.  Not  a 
bit  of  it.  They  elected  the  best  man,  the  bravest  man,  the 
man  fitted  to  govern ;  and  they  made  him  their  chieftain ; 
and  he  was  called,  during  the  life  of  his  predecessor,  the 
**  tanist,"  according  to  the  law  of  tanistry.  Accordingly, 
when  a  time  of  war  or  trouble  arose,  the  chieftain  blew  his 
horn  and  drew  his  men  around  him.  He  was  called  The 
McMahon,  The  O'Neil,  The  O'Dwyer,  The  O'Kourke,  The 
O'Donnell ; — he  blew  his  horn  and  rallied  his  men  around 
him ;  and  these  men  came,  the  blacksmith  from  his  forge, 
the  thresher  from  the  threshing-floor,  the  ploughman  from 
his  plough  ;  they  took  their  battle-axes  and  spears,  and  went 
out  to  fight  with  their  chieftains  as  man  to  man,  not  as 
slaves  under  their  ruler.  This  being  the  constitution  of 
ancient  Ireland,  it  happened  that,  towards  the  close  of  the 
Danish  invasion,  the  King  selected  as  "  Ard-righ,"  or  High 
King,  was  a  Meath  man,  Malachi  McLaughlin,  one  of  the 
bravest  and  best  kings  that  ever  ruled  in  Ireland.  It  is 
written  of  him  that  his  delight  was  to  take  a  young  horse 
that  never  was  broken  in,  and  placing  one  hand  upon  the 
animal's  neck,  he  would  bound  to  his  back,  draw  his  sword, 
and  dash  with  the  unbroken  animal  into  the  midst  of  the 
enemy — slashing  right  and  left,  and  cutting  his  way  right 
through  them.  Wise  in  council,  holy  in  his  life  was  this 
grand  and  magnificent  Malachi ;  and  he  was  the  man  whom 
the  poet  commemorates  when  he  says ; 


"  Let  Erin  remember  the  days  of  old, 

Ere  her  faithless  sons  betrayed  her, 
When  Malachi  wore  the  collar  of  gold 

Which  he  won  from  the  proud  invader. 
When  her  Kings,  with  standards  of  green  nnforled, 

Led  the  '  Bed  Branch '  Knights  to  danger ; 
Ere  the  Emerald  Qtem.  of  the  Western  world 

Was  Bet  in  th^  oro-ffn  of  the  straoger/* 


BODBBIO  Q  CONOR, 


167. 


In  the  glen  of  Glenamada,  in  Wicklow,  near  to  that  lovely 
vale  where  the  two  rivers  meet, — where  their  waters  bl^id 
together,  near  that  wonderful  vale  of  Avoca,  Malachi,  the 
King  of  Ireland,  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  met  a  great  army 
of  the  Danes.  They  joined  in  battle,  the  Danes  with  the  cry 
of  their  heathen  gods — McLaughlin  and  his  men  with  the 
cry,  "  For  God,  His  Christ ;  and  His  holy  Church ; "  and  be- 
fore the  evening  sun  set,  six  thousand  Danes  were  stretched 
dead  upon  the  green  hillsides  of  that  valley  of  Wicklow. 
Thrice  did  this  glorious  king  meet  a  Danish  warrior  in  sin- 
gle combat,  and  after  striking  him  dead  with  his  battle-axe, 
he  tore  the  golden  collar  from  his  neck  and  hung  it  around 
his  own  as  a  trophy  of  Celtic  victory  over  the  Scandina- 
vians. 

_And,  yet,  brave  and  wise  and  holy  as  he  was,  there  was 
another  man  in  Ireland  braver,  wiser,  and  holier  than  Mal- 
achi the  Second ;  and  that  was  the  illustrious  Brian,  of  the 
house  of  Kincora,  by  the  Shannon,  in  Munster.  This  man 
saw  the  evils  that  were  on  the  land ;  he  saw  the  Danes  on 
every  side,  around  the  sea  coast ;  he  saw  the  people  divided, 
— the  very  chieftains  divided  amongst  themselves  ;  and  he 
saw  at  the  head  of  the  nation  a  man  whose  bravery  he  ac- 
knowledged, whose  wisdom  and  goodness  he  was  the  first  to 
acknowledge,  but  who  was  not  equal  to  the  occasion.  He 
seized  the  reins  of  government  in  his  own  strong  hands ;  he 
gathered  his  armies  around  him ;  he  rallied  the  grand  old 
race  of  the  O'Briens;  he  advanced  from  the  banks  of  the 
Shannon;  he  received  the  fealty  of  Connaught  on  his  left 
hand  and  of  Leinster  before  him;  and  witii  these  three 
Provinces  around  him  he  attacked  the  Danes  on  Good  Fri- 
day morning.  With  the  Crucifix  in  one  hand  and  his  drawn 
sword  in  the  other,  the  man  over  whose  head  eighty  winters 
had  passed,  rode  before  his  Irish  troops  and  cried  out  from 
his  war-horse,  "  Behold  this  sign,  O  Irishmen  I  Remember 
that  this  is  the  day  on  which  your  God  died  for  you ;  and 
for  that  God  strike  a  blow  I "  And  under  his  hand  the  Irish 
struck  such  a  blow,  that  on  that  day  at  Clontarf  they 
achieved  what  England  was  never  able  to  do, — what  glorious 
France  was  unable  to  do ; — Ireland  shook  the  Danes  from  her 
bosom,  right  into  the  sea,  even  as  Saint  Paul  shook  off  the 
venomous  serpent  from  his  hand,  in  the  island  of  Melita. 
Ah  I  how  sad  was  the  evening  of  that  day !     The  sun  set 


^168  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

over  the  Western  coast  of  Ireland ;  the  nation  was  rejoicing, 
— the  soldiers,  resting  upon  their  swords  and  spears,  were 
telling  each  other  of  the  events  of  the  day.  But  there  were 
three  corpses  upon  that  field  of  Clontarf;  and  with  these" 
three  the  hopes  of  Ireland  perished.  Brian  was  stretched  a 
corpse  there.  The  old  man  had  retired  into  his  own  tent,  in 
the  evening,  and  he  was  absorbed  in  prayer  before  the  image 
of  Christ,  when  a  Danish  fugitive  chanced  to  pass  that  way. 
He  peered  in,  and  seeing  the  old  King,  entered  his  tent  and 
transfixed  him  through  the  heait  with  his  spear.  Upon  the 
field  lay  his  brave  son,  Prince  Murrough,  and  his  grandson, 
Tdrlough,  who  was  also  a  Prince.  Three  generations  of  the 
royal  house  of  Ireland  perished  there ;  and,  now,  anarchy 
and  confusion  reigned  in  the  land ;  until  another  man  arose, 
second  only  in  bravery,  in  wisdom,  in  piety  to  Brian  Boru, 
and  that  man  was  Turlough  O'Conor,  Prince  of  Connaught. 
Brave  in  the  field  was  Turlough ;  wise  in  council  was  he. 
He  subjected  all  the  various  tribes  around  him  to  his  own 
chieftainship ;  and  they  acknowledged  him.  The  star  of  the 
house  of  O'Conor  of  Connaught  rose  to  the  nation  that  was 
sorrowing  over  the  grave  of  Brian,  with  the  bards  who  had 
sung  over  him : 

"  Remember  the  glories  of  Brian  the  brave, 
Though  the  days  of  the  hero  are  o'er — 
Though  lost  to  Mononia,  and  cold  in  his  grave, 
He  returns  to  Eincora  no  more." 

Thus  spoke  the  bard  of  Brian,  and  all  Ireland  wept.  Yet 
still  the  hopes  of  the  nation  revived  when  the  rising  ptar  of 
the  Western  race  of  O'Conor,  the  head  of  that  race, — brave, 
as  I  said,  in  the  field,  wise  in  the  council,  holy  before  the 
altar  of  God, — assumed  the  sovereignty  of  the  Western  part 
of  Ireland.  He  extended  his  sway  all  over  the  land  of  Erin, 
that  only  desired  to  see  the  character  of  the  true  Catholic 
and  Christian  shining  out  acknowledged  in  her  brave  King, 
Turlough  O'Conor — that  he  was  as  holy  as  he  was  brave ; 
and  they  all  submitted  to  him.  He  lived  until  the  year 
1156, — thirteen  years  before  the  Norman  and  Saxon  inva- 
sion of  Ireland.  Towards  the  close  of  his  life,  wearied  with 
the  battles  and  strifes  of  his  manhood,  he  founded  and  en- 
dowed the  royal  convent  of  Clonmacnoise  for  the  Cistercian 


ROD  ERIC  0' CONOR. 


169 


Monks  and  Canons  Regular  of  St.  Augustine;  and  he  re- 
tired into  the  midst  of  them.  Ireland's  King  retired  ;  and 
the  sanctity  of  the  olden  days  was  returning  upon  Ireland. 
The  days  of  Columba  and  Columbanus ; — the  days  of  Keiran 
and  the  Saints  of  old  were  coming  back  upon  the  land.  Mal- 
achi,  a  Saint  of  God,  was  Primate  of  Armagh;  Laurence 
O'Toole,  a  Saint  of  God,  was  Bishop  of  Glendalough ;  St. 
Celsus  was  sitting  on  another  episcopal  throne  in  Ireland ; 
and  Ireland  had  the  honor  and  glory  of  three  living  Saints 
ruling  her  church  at  the  same  time.  The  clergy  and  Bish- 
ops, in  their  council  at  Kells,  laid  down  wise  laws  for  the 
regulation  of  ecclesiastical  affairs.  The  kings  and  rulers  of 
the  land  were  most  anxious  to  give  to  the  world  and  to  their 
subjects  the  example  of  the  holiness  of  the  ancient  days. 
The  Danes  had  passed  away ;  new  hopes  were  blooming  for 
Ireland ;  and  the  people  looked,  as  a  matter  of  cours.e,  upon 
the  figure  of  their  monarch,  as  he  retired  from  their  view  in- 
to the  'cloister,  and  there  lived  and  died  in  the  odor  of  sanc- 
tity. He  brought  with  him,  as  he  came  into  the  house  he 
had  endowed,^  royal  gifts.  History  tells  us  that  he  brought 
with  him  forty  thousand  ounces  of  gold ;  history  tells  us 
that  he  adorned  the  altars,  and  built  up  the  glorious  shrine ; 
and  when  he  saw  peace  and  calm  around  him,  he  glided 
quietly  into  that  eternity  which  was  before  him ;  and,  as  was 
befitting  an  Irish  hero,  an  Irish  monarch,  and  a  prince  of 
the  Irish  people,  he  died,  leaving  to  his  people  as  an  inher- 
itance, the  legacy  of  a  memory  that  was  hallowed  by  them  as 
that  of  a  Saint. 

But  speedily  there  arose  from  the  same  house,  and  from 
the  line  of  Turlough,  the  young  monarch,  Roderic  O' Conor. 
Young,  splendid  in  figure,  a  prince,  manly  in  heart  and  in 
bravery  and  in  strength,  he  grasped  the  royal  sword  of 
Brian,  and  he  waved  over  Ireland  the  sceptre  of  a  monarch. 
He  was  scarcely  installed  in  his  royal  dignity,  when  a  great 
calamity  fell  upon  Ireland,  that  looms  over  her  and  blights 
her  like  the  dark  shadow  of  a  black  cloud  to  this  day.  All 
Ireland  acknowledged  Roderic  as  "  Ard-righ,"  or  "  High 
King."  The  glories  of  Tara  had  passed  away ;  Tara  was  in 
ruins  then  as  it  is  to-day;  but  there,  upon  the  plains  of 
Boyle,  in  Roscommon,  rose  the  high  towers  and  lofty  pal- 
ace of  Ireland's  King;  and  there  Roderic  held  undoubted 
and  undisputed  sway  over  the  whole  of  Ireland.  The 
8 


170  IRELAND  AND  THE  IBISK 

O'Briens,  the  McCarthy  Mor,  the  O'Sullivans,  of  the  South^ 
bowed  before  him ;  the  proud  O'Donnells  and  O'Neils, 
of  the  North,  yielded  their  tribute  and  homage  to  him;  the 
O'Tooles  and  O'Byrnes  of  the  Wicklow  Glens,  and  Kildare 
plains,  of  Leinster ;  the  O'Bourkes,  of  Brefni,  and  Meath, 
acknowledged  him  as  their  King  ;  whilst  all  the  septs  around 
him,  in  his  own  Province  of  Connanght,  gloried  in  the  name 
of  their  great  and  brave,  valiant  and  puissant  King,  Roderic 
O'Conor,  the  King  of  Ireland.  His  name  was  known  in  the 
halls  of  the  Plantagenets,  in  England.  His  name  was  known 
ia  the  halls  of  the  Princes  and  Kings  of  France  and  of  Ger- 
many ;  his  name  resounded  in  the  Vatican  as  the  descendant 
of  a  Saint,  and  one  who  emulated  the  virtues  as  well  as  ri- 
valled the  bravery  of  his  great  ancestor,  Turlough  O'Conor. 
Now,  my  friends,  whilst  St.  Laurence  O'Toole  was  on  his 
Archiepiscopal  throne  of  Diiblin, — whilst  peace  reigned  over 
the  coutitry, — whilst  Ireland  was  healing  the  deep  wounds 
which  the  Danes  had  left  upon  her  stately  form, — a  man 
came  to  Ireland  to  reform  the  Church  and  State,  and  bring 
the  barbarous  Irish  into  a  state  of  civilization ;  and  that  man 
was  Henry  the  Second,  the  Plantagenet  King  of  England. 
Let  me  tell  you  something  about  him.  He  was  of  a  family 
so, wicked  that  the  great  St.  Bernard  said  of  them — and  it 
was  believed  all  over  in  Europe — that  they  came  from  the 
devil.  The  words  of  St.  Bernard  were  these — "  From  the 
devil  they  have  come,  and  to  the  devil,  their  father,  they 
will  go."  This  man  held  all  the  Bishoprics  of  England  in 
his  own  hands.  He  claimed  the  right  of  appointing  and  in- 
vesting the  Bishops.  In  those  days  the  Church  was  very 
lich ;  and  whenever  a  Bishop  died,  the  good  King  Henry 
took  the  ten  or  twelve  thousand  pounds — that  is  to  say, 
fifty,  or  sixty,  or  eighty  thousand  dollars, — and  he  kept  it 
for  three  or  four  years  in  his  own  hands  before  he  appointed 
a  Bishop.  He  wanted  the  money  ;  and  I  will  tell  you  why. 
Irish  ladies,  bear  with  me.  He  was  an  iirimoral,  an  impure 
and  debauched  man.  He  wanted  the  money  that  belonged 
to  the  poor  and  the  Church  of  God,  to  expend  it  upon  his 
own  vicious,  impure  and  immoral  pleasures.  In  order  to 
show  what  manner  of  man  he  was,  he  sent  three  of  his 
Knights — I  say  he  sent  them, — I  don't  care  what  history 
says — he  sent  them  to  shed  the  blood  of  Thomas  ^  Beckett. 
Henry's  three  Knights  entered  the  Cathedral  at  Canterbury ; 


RODERIC  O  CONOR.  171 

they  found  the  holy  Bishop  at  Vespers,  in  cope  and  mitre, 
standing  before  the  altar;  and  there,  in  the  presence  of 
God,  they  struck  him ;  they  broke  his  skull,  and  they  shed 
his  brains  upon  the  altar  of  God.  This  was  the  man,  saving 
your  presence,  that  came  over  to  refprm  the  Irish !  this  was 
the  man  that  came  over  to  educate  our  clergy  and  teach 
them  how  to  say  Mass  1  this  was  the  man  who  came  over  to 
teach  St.  Laurence  O'Toole — one  of  the  greatest  saints  that 
ever  lived — how  to  behave  himself  properly  as  a  Christian ! 
According  to  Mr.  Froude,  the  Pope  wanted  a  policeman : 
and  he  selected  a  man  that  had  violated  every  law  of  God  ; 
the  man  that  had  reddened  his  hands  with  the  blood  of  a 
Saint — a  man,  that,  having  come  from  the  devil,  was  going 
to  the  devil  as  fast  as  he  could  go; — a  man  that  had  married 
Eleanor  of  Acquitaine,  another  man's  wife  !  he  came  and  he 
found  in  Ireland  a  hero  and  a  saint ; — the  saint  was  St.  Lau- 
rence O'Toole,  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin ;  and  Ireland's  hero 
was  the  great  and  grand  Roderic,  King  of  Connaught,  and 
High  King  of  Ireland. 

Then  St.  Laurence  O'Toole,  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  cried 
out  to  the  nation  :  "  To  arms  !  Draw  the  sword  !  The  land 
is  invaded  ! "  No  sooner  did  Henry's  myrmidons  land  in 
Ireland, — no  sooner  was  the  voice  of  the  sainted  Archbishop 
of  Dublin  heard,  than  the  sword  of  Roderic  O'Conor  sprang 
from  its  sheath,  and  waved,  bright  and  glorious,  over  the 
land.  From  the  shores  of  the  Western  ocean,  he  marched 
'to  the  eastern  coast  of  Ireland.  He  had  around  him  his 
army ;  he  rallied  his  chiefs,  and  they  came.  Strongbow, 
with  his  forces,  landed  on  the  coast  of  Wexford.  Roderic 
knew  the  geography  of  his  country ;  and  he  knew  that,  hav- 
ing taken  Wexford,  the  probable  course  of  the  invader 
would  be  to  march,  over  the  hills  of  Wicklow  and  the  plains 
of  Kildare,  on  to  the  city  of  Dublin ;  and  therefore  he, 
with  his  army,  stood,  like  a  lion  in  the  path,  with  their 
swords  in  their  Celtic  hands,  and  waited  for  the  invader 
whom  he  expected.  But  there  was  a  traitor  in  Ireland,  in 
*  those  days ;  and  that  traitor  to  Ireland  was  Dermot  McMur- 
rough,  the  King  of  Leinster.  He  had  taken  the  wife  of 
O'Rourke,  Prince  of  Brefhi,  from  her  husband  ;  and  it  speaks 
well  for  Ireland, — that  Ireland  which  needed  the  Pope's 
policeman,  according  to  Mr.  Froude,  to  keep  us  in  order,  so 
that  w©  required  Henry  II.,  th©  holy  and  immaculate,  to 


172  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH^ 

teacli  us  how  to  say  our  prayers ; — it  speaks  well  for  Ire- 
land that,  in  the  day  that  one  man  took  another  man's  wife, 
the  whole  nation  rose  up  'against  him ;  and  all  the  man- 
hood and  womanhood  in  Ireland  declared  that  the  land  of 
St.  Patrick,  the  "  Island  of  Saints,"  should  not  afford  stand- 
ing-room for  an  adulterer.  Dermot,  the  accursed,  was  with 
the  Norman  and  Saxon  invaders ;  aiid  well  he  knew  that 
Ireland's  lion  prince  was  standing  in  the  path,  between  the 
great  capital  of  the  nation  and  the  invaders.  He  stole  a 
march  upon  Roderic ;  he  came  around  by  the  sea-coast  of 
Wexford,  and  entered  into  Dublin  secretly.  To  the  amaze- 
ment and  indignation  of  the  great  King,  his  capital  was 
taken  before  he  was  aware.  Now,  what  remained  for 
him  ?  Suddenly  he  saw  his  friend,  the  holy  Archbishop  of 
Dublin,  enter  his  camp.  These  two  met ;  and  never,  per- 
haps, since  the  world  was  created,  did  two  grander  or 
greater  souls  meet  than  when  Laurence,  the  Saint,  met  Rod- 
eric O'Conor,  the  Celtic  King,  both  animated  by  one  desire, 
by  one  passion,  and  that  passion  and  desire  was  to  drive  the 
Norman  and  the  Saxon  into  the  same  Irish  sea  that  had 
swallowed  up  the  Dane,  the  last  of  Ireland's  invaders.  Re- 
member I  am  speaking  to  you  of  a  Saint.  Remember,  O 
Irishmen  !  that  if  any  man  come  and  tell  one  of  you  that,  in 
order  to  love  Ireland,  you  must  doubt  or  discredit  Ireland's 
priesthood, — I  am  here  to  tell  you,  that  I  am  speaking  of 
the  last  of  Ireland's  Saints ;  and  he  came  to  the  camp  of  the  ^ 
last  of  Ireland's  Kings ;  and  the  burthen  of  his  message  was : 
"  Give  me  a  sword,  that  I  may  draw  it  in  defence  of  Ireland's 
Nationality,  and  scourge  her  invaders  forever  from  her 
soil !  " 

Accordingly,  a  short  time  after  Dublin  was  taken,  St. 
Laurence  O'Toole,  with  Roderic  O'Conor,  the  King,  ad- 
vanced upon  Dublin,  and,  according  to  authentic  records, 
with  from  forty  to  sixty  thousand  Irishmen  with  them. 
They  invested  the  city.  The  O'Donnell  and  O'Neil,  of 
Ulster,  shut  the  invaders  out  from  the  sea  by  the  side  of 
Howth ;  the  Munster  men,  under  the  O'Briens,  and  the 
O'Byrnes,  held  the  sea-coast  at  Kingstown  and  Dalkey,  and 
shut  the  invaders  out  from  the  sea  on  that  side ;  the  O'Kinsella 
and  his  men  took  up  position  at  Kilmainham ;  and  Roderic 
O'Conor  occupied  the  site  of  the  present  Phoenix  Park,  or 
Castleknock.     Unhappily,  the  investment  was  not  complete. 


RODEBIC  a  CONOR,  173 

Strongbow  was   a  brave  man,  my  friends;  a  man  whom 
neither  you  nor  I  would  wish  to  meet  upon  the  open  field ; 
brave  as  a  lion,  and  with  the  heart  and  hand  of  a  Norman 
warrior.     I  do  not  say  it  because  I  am  of  their  Norman 
blood  myself.     No !  I  had  rather  have  one  drop  of  my  Celtic 
mother's  blood  than  all  the  blood  in  my  veins  other  than 
Celtic.     But  still  it  cannot  be  denied  that  these  Normans, — 
clad  in  sjeel  from  head  to  toe ;  mounted  upon  their  war- 
horses,   also    panoplied  in   steel, — were    brave    men ;   the 
bravest,  perhaps,  in  the  world.     There  were  only  six  hun- 
dred of  them  in  Dublin,  reduced  to  starvation  by  the  Irish 
army,  lying  silent,  in  grim  expectation  of  the  time  when  the 
invaders  would  be  compelled  to  yield.     St.  Laurence  O'Toole, 
according  to  the  historian  Leland,  went  through  the  ranks 
day  by  day,  holding  up  the  cross  of  Christ,  and  also  girded 
with  a  sword,  which  he  was  prepared  to  draw  as  a  prince 
amongst  his  people.     Pressed  with  famine  and  almost  ex- 
hausted with  hunger,  Strongbow  called  his  Norman  knights 
together  and  said :  "  The  enemy  is  diffused  about  the  walls  ; 
his  line  is  slender,  and  we  can  easily  break  through  it.     Is 
it  not  better  to  die  like  heroes  in  the  field,  than  to  starve 
here  like  rats  in  a  hole?  "     Arraying  his  men  in  full  armor, 
he  divided  them  into  three  bodies  of  about  two  hundred 
eacK;  Raymond  le  Gros  taking  command  of  one,  Miles  de 
Cogan  of  another,  and  Strongbow  himself  leading  the  third  ; 
and  they  dashed  right  into   the  midst  of  the  Irish  army. 
The  Celts  scattered  all  around,  taken  completely  by  surprise. 
Not  thinking  of  an  assault,  and  having  no  previous  warning, 
their  lines  were   broken ;  and   the   Normans   dashed   right 
through   the   heart   of  the   army,  and  again  dashed  back. 
Once   again   they  charged,  and   the   siege   of  Dublin   was 
raised.     The   chieftains   drew   off  their   men   and   retired. 
Roderic  sullenly  and  reluctantly  withdrew  at  last,  like  a  lion 
disappointed  of  his  prey.     The  grand,  royal  heart  of  Ireland's 
monarch  broke  within  him,  when  he  heard  from  the  lips  of 
his  friend  St.  Laurence,  that  the  invaders  were  not  to  depart 
to-day  or  to-morrow,  but  were  to  remain  for  many  a  sad 
year.     "  They  come,"  he  said,  in  the  language  interpreted  by 
Ireland's  latest  poet : — 

' '  They  come  to  divide — to  dishonor ; 
And  tyrants  they  long  shall  remain." 


174  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRI8H, 

Oh  !  the  vision  that  was  opened  before  him  by  the  saint  of 
God  was  too  much  for  his  heart.  What !  Ireland  dishon- 
ored !  Ireland  enslaved !  Ireland  losing  her  nationality ! 
He  could  not  bear  it.  His  heart  broke  within  him ;  and 
resigning  crown  and  sceptre,  he  sought  the  cloister  of  Clon- 
macnoise,  where  his  ancestor  died  in  sanctity;  and  there, 
for  twelve  years,  the  man  who  had  braved  every  disaster 
was  to  live  as  a  Canon  Regular  of  St.  Augustine.  For 
twelve  years  he  spent  his  time  in  prayer  with  God,  for  Ire- 
land's prosperity  and  safety.  No  longer  a  king,  enthroned 
and  crowned,  he  could  do  no  more  for  Ireland.  Wisdom 
and  strength  were  vain ;  but  he  passed  his  days  in  sanctity ; 
ending  his  life  in  an  aroma  of  prayer  to  God  for  the  land 
that  bore  him. 

His  eldest  son  he  was  obliged  to  send  as  a  hostage  to  the 
English  King ;  his  dominions  he  was  obliged  to  hold  under 
him ;  not  as  under  the  power  of  a  conqueror ;  for  never  will 
history  admit  that  Ireland  was  conquered  by  Henry  the 
Second.  The  most  that  Henry  ever  claimed  was  the  ac- 
knowledgment of  superiority,  then  called  "  haul  suzerainties''^ 
— that  Ireland,  retaining  her  independence,  kingship  and 
nationality,  acknowledged  a  nominal  submission  to  the 
Crown  of  England.  That  was  all  that  Henry  the  Second 
ever  claimed.  He  treated  with  Roderic  O'Conor  as  a  King. 
Roderic  O'Conor  retired  into  the  cloisters  of  Clonmacnoise 
and  there  lived  as  a  king,  though  a  monk.  He  died  a  king ; 
and  on  the  day  when  the  royal  tomb  of  Clonmacnoise  was 
opened  to  receive  him,  he  was  buried  with  kingly  honors. 

If  England,  to-day,  denies  the  right  of  Ireland  to  her 
nationality  and  independence,  England  denies  it  by  the 
greatest  injustice,  lying,  treachery  and  tyranny  that  ever 
one  people  exercised  over  another.  If  England,  to-day, 
claims  more  than  her  first  kings  did  from  Ireland,  she  claims 
it  without  reason ;  and  although  she  has  welded  a  chain, 
dripping  blood,  over  our  land  for  seven  hundred  years,  Eng- 
land has  never  been  able  to  extinguish  in  the  Irish  soul  the 
proud  and  heroic  feeling  that  we  are  still  a  nation  and  shall 
be  a  niftion  till  the  end  of  time. 

The  body  of  Ireland's  last  monarch  was  laid  in  his  royal 
grave.  The  nation  wept  over  him ;  and  never,  since  his 
day,  have  we  seen  his  like,  except,  perhaps,  in  the  passing 
vision  of  the  heroic  Hugh  O'Neil,  of  Tyrone.     Perchance 


BODEBIG  0' CONOR  175 

the  spirits  of  the  just  in  Heaven  behold  the  things  that  take 
place  on  earth.  If  sorrow  could  enter  there, — where  the 
chastened  spirit  of  Ireland's  last  monarch  is  crowned, — Oh ! 
saddened  would  be  his  vision  of  blessedness,  and  chastened 
his  eternal  joy,  to  witness  the  centuries  of  agony,  of  perse- 
cution, of  trial  and  of  wrong  that  have  passed  over  his 
native  land.  But  one  thing  we  know, — that  the  spirits  of 
the  just  behold  and  appreciate  the  triumph  of  justice  and  of 
truth  upon  this  earth.  Roderic,  brave  was  thine  arm,  now 
mouldered  into  the  dust  of  Ireland ;  brave  was  the  heart 
that  throbbed  in  thy  manly  and  kingly  bosom  with  love /or 
Ireland.  Roderic,  thou  hast  seen  our  sorrows;  but  I,  an 
Irishman  and  a  priest,  proclaim,  O  Roderic,  that  thou  shalt 
behold  our  resurrection,  our  triumph  and  our  joy.  It  is 
coming.  The  day  approaches.  O  sainted  King !  it  ap- 
proaches. The  dawn  is  drawing  near ;  for  the  sun  of  Eng- 
land is  setting.  Her  political  power  is  nearly  gone;  her 
military  power  is  nothing;  her  commercial  power  is  slip- 
ping fast  from  out  her  hands ;  the  natural  resources  of  her 
once  fruitful  bosom  are  beginning  to  fail;  the  mother  of 
iron  and  coal  is  beginning  to  prove  barren ;  and  when  Eng- 
land's iron  and  coal  are  gone,  England's  prestige  already 
gone,  her  political  influence  now  rapidly  on  the  wane,  what 
remains  ?  What  remains,  O  Celts  ?  Oh,  ye  Irish  Saints  in 
Heaven  !  it  remains  for  you  to  behold  the  resurrection  and 
the  glory  of  your  race,  who  have  kept  your  faith,  held  to 
your  national  love,  and  have  never  known  how  to  resign  the 
two  most  glorious  ideas  that  can  fill  the  mind  and  heart  of 
man, — a  love  for  God  above  him,  and  for  the  native  land 
that  bore  him. 


ST.  PATEICK. 

(A  Panegyric  delivered  hy  the  Very  Rev.   T.  N.   Burke,  0.  P. ,  in 
St,  Patrick's  Cathedral,  New  T&rk,  March  17th,  1872.) 

' '  Let  us  now  praise  men  of  renown,  and  our  fathers  in  their  gene- 
ration .  .  .  these  were  men  of  mercy,  whose  godly  deeds  have 
not  failed.  Good  things  continue  with  their  seed.  Their  posterity 
are  a  holy  inheritance  ;  and  their  seed  hath  stood  in  the  covenants ; 
and  their  children,  for  their  sakes,  remain  forever ;  their  seed  and 
their  glory  shall  not  be  forsaken.  .  .  .  Let  the  people  shew 
forth  their  wisdom  and  the  Church  declare  their  praise."  (Eccles. 
44.) 

We  are  assembled  to  obey  the  command  of  God  expressed 
in  my  text.  One  of  the  great  duties  of  God's  Church,  to 
which  she  has  ever  been  most  faithful,  is  the  commemora- 
tion of  her  Saints.  From  end  to  end  of  the  year,  the  Saints 
of  the  Church  are  the  theme  of  her  daily  thanksgiving 
and  praise.  They  are  her  heroes,  and  therefore  she  honors 
them  ;  just  as  the  world  celebrates  its  own  heroes,  records 
their  great  deeds,  and  builds  up  monuments  to  perpetuate 
their  names  and  their  glory.  The  Saints  were  the  living 
and  most  faithful  representatives  of  Christ,  our  Lord,  of 
His  virtues,  His  love.  His  action.  His  power ;  so  that  He 
lived  in  them,  and  wrought,  m.  them  and  through  them,  the 
redemption  of  men ;  therefore  the  Church  honors,  not  so 
much  the  saint  as  Christ  our  Lord  in  the  saint,  for  in  truth 
the  wisdom  of  saintliness  which  she  celebrates,  wherever  it  is 
found,  is  nothing  else,  as  described  to  us  in  Scripture,  than 
"  a  vapor  of  the  power  of  God,  and  a  certain  pure  emanation 
of  the  glory  of  the  Almighty  God  .  .  .  the  brightness 
of  eternal  light,  and  the  unspotted  mirror  of  God's  majesty, 
and  the  image  of  His  goodness  .  .  .  and  through  na- 
tions she  conveyeth  herself  into  holy  souls ;  she  maketh  the 
friends  of  God  and  prophets." 

Nor  does  the  Church's  honor  of  the  Saints  derogate  from 
that  of  God,  as  some  say ;  otherwise  the  Lord,  who  is  jeal- 


ST.  PATRICK  177 

ous  of  His  divine  power  and  glory,  would  never  command  us 
to  praise  the  Saints  as  He  does  in  the  words  of  my  text,  and 
in  many  other  parts  of  the  Jloly  Scriptures :  "  Praise  ye  the. 
Lord  in  His  Saints."  "  God  is  wonderful  in  His  Saints," 
etc.,  etc.  Nay,  so  far  from  lessening  our  love  and  praise  of 
God,  the  Saints  are  the  very  channel  through  which  praise 
is  most  acceptably  given  to  Him :  and  if  the  Scriptures  ^ 
command  us  to  praise  the  Lord  in  all  His  works,  how 
much  more  in  His  Saints — the  masterpieces  of  nature  and 
grace.  Let  no  one,  therefore,  suppose  that  we  are  assem- 
bled to-day  to  dishonor  God  by  honoring  His  Saint ;  let  no 
one  imagine  that  we  are  come  together  to  bless  and  praise 
other  than  Our  God  Himself,  the  Father  of  light,  "  for  every 
best  and  every  perfect  gift "  which  He  has  given  us  through  our 
great  Apostle,  St.  Patrick.  He  was  "  a  man  of  renown," 
for  his  work  and  his  name  are  known  and  celebrated  by  all 
men;  "and  our  father  in  his  generation;"  for  he  "begat 
us  to  God  by  the  Gospel."  He  was^  moreover,  "  a  man  of 
mercy,"  for,  when  he  might  have  lived  for  himself  and  for 
the  enjoyment  of  his  own  ease,  he  chose  rather  to  sacrifice 
himself,  and  to  make  his  life  cheap  and  of  no  account  in  his 
sight ;  and  this  through  the  self-same  mercy  which  brought 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  forth  from  the  bosom  of  the  Father, 
namely,  mercy  for  a  people  who  were  perishing.  His  "godly 
deeds  have  not  failed ; "  for  the  Lord  crowned  his  labors 
with  blessings  of  abundance.  "  Good  things  continue  with 
his  seed  ; "  for  the  faith  which  he  planted  still  flourishes  in 
the  land.  "  His  posterity  are  a  holy  inheritance ; "  for  the 
scene  of  his  labors,  grown  famous  for  holiness,  obtained 
among  the  nations  the  singular  title  of  "  the  Island  of 
Saints."  "  And  his  seed  has  stood  in  the  covenants ; "  for  it 
is  well  known  and  acknowledged  that  no  power,  however 
great,  has  been  able  to  move  them  from  the  faith  once  de- 
livered to  the  Saints.  "His  children  for  his  sake  remain 
for  ever  ; "  for  he  blessed  them,  as  we  read,  that  they  should 
never  depart  from  the  fold  of  the  "one  Shepherd,"  into 
which  he  had  gathered  them ;  and  his  prayer  in  heaven  has 
verified  for  fifteen  hundred  years  his  prophetic  blessing  on 
earth.  "  His  seed  and  his  glory  shall  not  be  forsaken ; "  for 
"  they  are  the  children  of  saints,  and  look  for  that  life  which 
God  will  give  to  those  that  never  change  their  faith  from 
Him." 

8* 


178  IRELAITD  AWD  THE  IRISH, 

Seeing,  therefore,  that,  all  the  conditions  of  the  liispired 
Word  have  been  so  strikingly  fulfilled  in  our  Saint,  is  it 
'  wonderful  that  we  should  also  desire  to  fulfil  the  rest  of  the 
command,  *'  let  the  people  shew  forth  his  wisdom,  and  the 
Church  declare  his  praise  ?  "  I  propose,  therefore,  for  your 
consideration — first,  the  character  of  the  Saint  himself;  sec- 
oijflly,  the  work  of  his  apostleship,  and  thirdly,  the  merci- 
ful providence  of  Almighty  God,  towards  the  Irish  Church 
and  the  Irish  people. 

The  light  of  Christianity  had  burned  for  more  than  four 
hundred  years  before  its  rays  penetrated  to  Ireland.  For 
the  first  three  hundred  years  of  the  Church's  existence,  the 
sacred  torch  was  hidden  in  the  Catacombs  and  the  caves  qf 
the  earth,  or,  if  ever  seen  by  men,  it  was  only  when  held 
aloft  for  a  moment  in  the  hands  of  a  dying  martyr.  Yet 
the  flame  was  spreading ;  and  a  great  part  of  Asia,  Armenia, 
Egypt,  Spain,  Italy  and  Gaul  had  already  lighted  their 
lamps  before  that  memorable  year  312,  when  the  Church's 
light  suddenly  shooting  up,  appeared  in  the  heavens,  and  a 
Koman  Emperor  was  converted  by  its  brightness.  Then 
did  the  spouse  of  Christ  walk  forth  upon  the  earth,  arrayed 
in  all  "  the  beauty  of  holiness,"  and  her  "  light  arose  unto 
the  people  who  were  seated  in  darkness  and  in  the  shadow 
of  death."  The  Christian  faith  was  publicly  preached ;  the 
nations  were  converted,  churches  and  monasteries  were  every- 
where built,  and  God  seemed  to  smile  upon  the  earth  with 
the  blessings  of  Christian  faith,  and  Roman  civilization.  A 
brief  interval  of  repose  it  was  ;  and  God,  in  His  mercy,  per- 
mitted the  Church  just  to  lay  hold  of  society,  and  establish 
herself  amongst  men,  that  she  might  be  able  to  save  the 
world,  when,  in  a  few  years,  the  Northern  barbarians  should 
have  swept  away  every  vestige  of  the  power,  glory,  and. 
civilization  of  ancient  Rome. 

It  was  during  this  interval,  between  the  long-continued 
war  of  persecution  and  the  first  fall  of  Rome,  that  a  young 
Christian  was  taken  prisoner  on  the  Northern  shores  of 
Gaul,  and  carried,  with  many  others,  by  his  captors,  into 
Ireland.  This  young  man  was  Saint  Patrick.  He  was  of 
noble  birth,  born  of  Christian  parents,  reared  up  with  ten- 
der care,  and  surrounded  from  his  earKest  infancy  with  all 
that  could  make  life  desirable  and  happy.  Now  he  is  torn 
away  from  parents  and  friends,  no  eye  to  look  upon  him 


BT.  PATBICK. 


179 


"  with  pity,  no  heart  to  feel  for  the  greatness  of  his  misery ; 
and,  in  his  sixteenth  year,  just  as  life  is  opening  and  spread- 
ing out  all  its  sweets  before  him,  he  is  sold  as  a  slave,  and 
sent  to  tend  cattle  upon  the  dreary  mountains  of  the  far 
north  of  Ireland,  in  hunger  and  thirst,  in  cold  and  naked- 
ness ;  and  there  for  long  years  did  he  live,  forgotten  and  de- 
spised, and  with  no  other  support  than  the  Christian  faith 
and  hope  within  him.     These,  however,  failed  him  not ;  and 
so  at  length  he  was  enabled  to  escape  from  his  captivity  and 
return  to  his  native  land.'    Oh,  how  sweet  to  his  eyes  and 
ears  must  have  been  the  sights  and  sounds  of  his  childhood  ! 
how  dear  the  embraces,  how  precious  the  joy  of  his  aged 
mother,  when  she  clasped  to  her  "  him  that  was  dead  but 
came  to  life  again !  "     Surely  he  will  remain  with  her  now, 
nor  ever  expose  himself  to  the  risk  of  losing  again  joys 
all  the  dearer  because  they  had  once  been  lost.     Not  so,  my 
brethren.     Patrick  is  no  longer  an  ordinary  man ;  one  of  us. 
A  new  desire  has  entered  into  his  soul  and  taken  possession 
of  his  life.     A  passion  has  sprung  up  within  him  for  which 
he  must  live  and  to  which  he  must  devote  his  future.     This 
desire,  this  passion,  is  to  preach  the  Christian  faith  in  Ire- 
land and  to  bring  the  nation  forth  "  from  darkness  into  the 
admirable  light"  of  God.     In  the  days  of  his  exile,  even 
when   a   slave    on   the   mountain   side,  he   heard,  like   the 
prophet,  a  voice  within  him  ;  and  it  said  :  *'  Behold  I  have- 
given  my  words  in  thy  mouth.     Lo,  I  have  set  thee  this  day 
over  the  nations  and  over  kingdoms,  to  root  up,  and  pull 
down,  and  to  waste  and  destroy,  and  to  build  up  and  to 
plant.     Gird  up  thy  loins  and  arise  and  speak-  to  theih  all 
that  I  command  thee."     And  when  he  was  restored  to  his 
country  and  to  those  who  loved  him,  the  same  voice  spoke 
again,  for  he  heard  in  a  dream  the  voice  of  many  persons, 
from  a  wood  near  the  western  sea,  crying  out,  as  with  one 
voice :  "  We  entreat  thee,  O  holy  youth,  to  come  and  walk 
still  among  us."     "  It  was  the  voice  of  the  Irish,"  says  the 
Saint,  in  his  "  Confessions,"  "  and  I  was  greatly  affected  in 
my  heart."     And  so  he  arose,  and  once  more  leaving  father 
and   mother,  houses   and   lands,  he  went  forth  to  prepare 
himself  for  his.  great  mission.     Having  completed  his  long 
years  of  preparatory  study,  he  turned  his  face  to  Rome,  to 
the  fountain-head  of  Christianity,  the  source  of  all  jurisdic- 
tion, and  Divine  mission  in  the  Church;  the  great  heart 


180  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

whence  the  life-blood  of  faith  and  sound  doctrine  flows,  even 
to  her  most  distant  members ;  the  new  Jerusalem  and  Sion 
of  God,  of  which  it  was  written  of  old:  "from  Sion  shall 
the  law  go  forth,  and  the  Word  of  the  Lord  from  Jerusalem." 
And  here,  in  Rome,  St.  Celestine  the  First  laid  his  hands 
upon  Patrick,  and  consecrated  him  first  Bishop  of  the  Irish 
nation. 

And,  now,  he  returns  to  our  shores  a  second  time ;  no 
longer  a  bondsman,  but  free  and  destined  to  break  the  na- 
tion's chains :  "You  shall  know  the  truth,  and  the  truth  shall 
make  you  free ; "  no  longer  dragged  thither  an  unwilling  slave 
of  men,  but  drawn  by  irresistible  love,  the  willing  slave  of 
Jesus  Christ ;  no  more  a  stripling,  full  of  anxious  fears ;  but 
a  man  in  all  the  glory  of  a  matured  intellect,  in  the  strength 
and  vigor  of  manhood,  in  the  fulness  of  power  and  jurisdic- 
tion ;  with  mind  prepared  and  spirit  braced  to  bear  and 
brave  all  things ;  and  with  heart  and  soul  utterly  devoted  to 
God  and  to  the  great  enterprise  before  him.  Oh,  my  breth- 
ren, what  joy  was  in  Heaven  at  that  hour  when  the  blessed 
feet  of  the  Bishop,  Patrick,  touched  the  shorres  of  Ireland — 
the  ancient  "  Isle  of  Destiny."  This  was  her  destiny  surely 
— and  it  is  about  to  be  fulfilled, — that  she  should  be  the 
home  and  the  mother  of  saints — of  doctors  and  holy  solita- 
ries and  pure  virgins  and  martyrs  robed  in  white,  and  of  a 
people  acceptable  before  the  Lord ; — that  the  cross  of  Christ 
should  be  the  emblem  of  her  faith  forevermore ;  of  her  faith 
and  of  her  trial,  of  her  tears  and  sorrow  and  of  her  victory, 
"  which  conquereth  the  world."  O  golden  hour  amongst  the 
hour^,  when  the  sands  of  the  Irish  shore  first  embraced, 
softly  and  lovingly,  the  beautiful  footprints  of  him  who 
preached  peace  and  good  tidings ;  when  Moses  struck  the 
rock,  and  the  glistening  waters  of  salvation  flowed  in  the 
desert  land ;  when  the  "  Name,  which  is  above  all  names," 
was  first  heard  in  the  old  Celtic  tongue ;  and  the  Lord  Jesus, 
entering  upon  His  new  inheritance,  exclaimed,  "This  is  My 
resting  place  forever  and  ever  ;  here  shall  I  dwell  because  I 
have  chosen  it." 

The  conversion  of  Ireland,  from  the  time  o.f  St.  Patrick's 
landing  to  the  day  of  his  death,  is,  in  many  respects,  the 
strangest  fact  in  the  history  of  the  Church.  The  Saint  met 
with  no  opposition ;  his  career  resembles  more  the  trium- 
phant progress  of  a  king  than  the  difficult  labor  of  a  mission- 


8T.  PATRICK, 


181 


ary.  The  Gospel,  with  its  lessons  and  precepts  of  self-denial, 
of  prayer,  of  purity — in  a  word,  of  the  violence  which  seizes 
on  Heaven, — is  not  congenial  to  man.  His  pride,  his  pas- 
sions, his  blindness  of  intellect  and  hardness  of  heart,  all  op- 
pose the  spread  of  the  Gospel ;  so  that  the  very  fact  that 
mankind  has  so  universally  accepted  it,  is  adduced  as  a  proof 
that  it  must  be  from  God.  The  work  of  the  Catholic  mis- 
sionary has,  therefore,  ever  been,  and  must  continue  to  be,  a 
work  of  great  labor  with  apparently  small  results.  Such  has 
it  ever  been  amongst  all  the  nations ;  ajnd  yet  Ireland  seems 
a  grand  exception.  She  is,  perhaps,  the  only  country  in  the 
world  that  entirely  owes  her  conversion  to  the  work  of  one 
man.  He  found  her  universally  Pagan.  He  left  her  uni- 
versally Christian.  She  is,  again,  the  only  nation  that  never 
cost  her  Apostle  an  hour  of  sorrow,  a  single  tear,  a  drop  of 
blood.  She  welcomed  him  like  a  friend,  took  the  Word  from 
his  lips,  made  it  at  once  the  leading  feature  of  her  life,  put 
it  into  the  blood  of  her  children  and  into  the  language  of  her 
most  familiar  thoughts,  and  repaid  her  benefactor  with  her 
utmost  veneration  and  love.  And  much,  truly,  had  young 
Christian  Ireland  to  love  and  venerate  in  her  great  Apostle. 
All  sanctity,  coming  as  it  does  from  God,  is  an  imitation  of 
God  in  man.  This  is  the  meaning  of  the  word  of  the  Apos- 
tle:  "  Those  whom  He  foreknew  and  predestined  to  be 
made  conformable  to  the  image  of  His  Son,  the  same  He 
called,  and  justified,  and  glorified."  Conformity  to  the 
image  of  God  is  therefore  Christian  perfection  or  sanctity. 
"  the  mystery  which  was  hidden  from  eternity  with  Christ 
in  God."  But  as  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  "  in  whom  dwelt 
the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  corporeally,"  is  an  abyss  of  all 
perfections,  so  do  we  find  the  Saints  differing  one  from  an- 
other in  their  varied  participations  of  His  graces,  and  resem- 
blance to  His  divine  gifts ;  for  so  "  star  differeth  from  star  in 
glory."  Thus,  amongst  the  Apostles,  we  are  accustomed  to 
think  and  speak  of  the  impulsive  zeal  of  Peter,  the  virginal 
purity  of  John,  etc. ;  not  as  if  Peter  were  not  pure,  or  that 
John  was  wanting  in  zeal,  but  that  where  all  was  the  work 
of  the  Spirit  of  God,  one  virtue  shone  forth  more  promi- 
nently, and  seemed  to  mark  the  specific  character  of  sanctity 
in  the  Saint. 

Naw,  amongst  the  many  great  virtues  which  adorned  the 
soul  of  Ireland's  apostle,  and  made  him  so  dear  to  the  peo« 


182  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

pie,  I  find  three  which  he  made  especially  his  own;  and 
these  were,  a  spirit  of  penance,  deepest  humility,  and  a  de- 
vouring zeal  for  the  salvation  of  souls.  A  spirit  of  penance. 
It  is  remarkable,  and  worthy  of  special  notice,  in  these  days 
of  self-indulgence  and  fanciful  religions,  how  practical  the 
Gospel  is.  It  is  pre-eminently  not  only  the  science  of  relig- 
ous  knowledge,  but,  also  of  religious  life.  It  tells  us  not 
only  what  we  are  to  believe,  but  also  what-  we  are  to  do. 
And,  now,  what  is  the  first  great  precept  of  the  Gospel  ?  It 
is  penance.  My  brethren,  "  do  penance,  for  the  kingdom  of 
God  is  at  hand."  And  when,  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  the 
Prince  of  the  Apostles  first  raised  up  the  standard  of  Chris- 
tianity upon  the  earth,  the  people,  "  when  they  heard  these 
things  had  compunction  in  their  hearts,  and  said  to  Peter, 
and  to  the  rest  of  the  Apostles — *  what  shall  we  do,  men  and 
brethren?'  and  Peter  said  to  them,  ^ do  penance,  and  be 
baptized  every  one  of  you.' "  This  spirit  of  penance  was  essen- 
tially Patrick's.  His  youth  had  been  holy.  Prevented  from 
earliest  childhood  by  "  the  blessings  of  sweetness,"  he  had 
grown  up  like  a  lily  in  purity,  in  holy  fear  and  love.  Yet, 
for  the  carelessness  and  slight  indiscretions  of  his  first  years, 
he  was  filled  with  compunction,  and  with  a  life-long  sorrow. 
His  sin,  as  he  called  it,  was  always  before  him ;  and  with 
the  Prophet  he  cried  out,  "  who  will  give  water  to  my  head, 
and  a  fountain  of  tears  to  mine  eyes,  that  I  may  weep  day 
and  night."  In  his  journey ings  he  was  wont  to  spend  the 
night  in  prayer,  and  tears,  and  bitter  self-reproach,  as  if  he 
were  the  greatest  of  sinners ;  and  when  he  hastened  from 
"  Royal  Meath,"  into  the  far  West  of  the  island,  we  read 
that  when  Lent  approached,  he  suspended  his  labors  for  a 
time,  and  went  up  the  steep,  rugged  side  of  Croagh  Patrick, 
and  there,  like  his  Divine  Master,  he  spent  the  holy  time  in 
fasting  and  prayer ;  and  his  "  tears  were  his  food  night  and 
day."  Whithersoever  he  went  he  left  traces  of  his  peniten- 
tial spirit  behind  him ;  and  Patrick's  penance  and  Patrick's 
purgatory  are  still  familiar  traditions  in  the  land.  Thus,  my 
brethren,  did  he  "  sow  in  tears,"  who  was  destined  to  reap 
in  so  much  joy ;  for  so  it  is  ever  with  God's  Saints,  who  do 
His  work  on  this  earth ;  "  going,  they  went  and  wept,  scat- 
tering the  seed ;   but  coming,  they  shall  come  with  joy." 

His  next  great  personal  virtue  was  a  wonderful  humility. 
Now,  this  virtue  springs  from  a  twofold  knowledge,  namely, 


BT.  FATBIGkT  185 

tlie  knowledge  of  God,  and  of  ourselves.  This  was  the  double, 
knowledge  for  which  the  great  Saint  Augustine  prayed — 
"  Lord,  let  me  know  Thee,  and  know  myself,  that  I  may  love 
Thee,  and  despise  myself; "  and  this  did  our  Saint  possess  in 
an  eminent  degree.  This  knowledge  of  God  convinced  him 
of  the  utter  worthlessness  of  all  things  beside  God  ;  and  even 
of  God's  gifts,  except  when  used  for  Himself;  and,  there- 
fore, he  did  all  things  for  God,  and  nothing  for  self;  and  of 
"  His  own  he  gave  Him  back  again  :  "  he  lost  sight  of  him- 
self in  advancing  the  interests  and  the  cause  of  God ;  he  hid 
himself  behind  his  work  in  which  he  labored  for  God  ;  and 
strangely  enough,  his  very  name  and  history  come  down  to 
us  by  reason  of  his  great  humility ;  for  he  would  write  him- 
self a  sinner,  and  calls  himself  "  Patrick,  an  unworthy  and 
ignorant  and  sinful  man ; "  for  so  he  saw  himself,  judging 
himself  by  the  standard  of  infinite  holiness  in  Christ,  by 
which  we  also  shall  all  be  one  day  judged.  Looking  into 
himself  he  found  only  misery  and  weakness,  wonderfully 
strengthened,  not  by  himself,  but  by  God ;  poverty  and  naked- 
ness, clothed  and  enriched,  not  by  himself — but  by  God  ;  and, 
fearful  of  losing  the  Giver  in  the  gifts,  he  put  away  from 
him  the  contemplation  of  what  God  bad  made  him,  and 
only  considered  what  he  was  himself.  Thus  was  he  always 
the  most  humble  of  men.  Even  when  seated  in  glory,  and  sur- 
rounded by  the  love  and  admiring  veneration  of  an  entii-e  peo- 
ple, never  was  his  soul  moved  from  the  solid  foundation  of  hu- 
mility,— the  two-fold  knowledge.  And  so  he  went  down  to 
his  grave,  a  simple  and  an  humble  man.  And  yet  in  this 
lowly  heart  -there  burned  a  mighty  fire  of  love,  a  devouring 
zeal  for  the  souls  of  his  brethren.  Oh  !  here,  indeed,  does 
he  shine  forth  "  likened  unto  the  Son  of  God ;  "  for,  like  his 
Divine  Lord  and  Master,  Patrick  was  a  "  zealous  lover  of 
souls."  He  well  knew  how  dear  these  souls  were  to  the 
sacred  heart  of  Jesus  Christ — how  willingly  the  Lord  of 
glory  had  spent  Himself,  and  given  His  most  sacred  and 
precious  blood  for  them :  how  it  was  the  thought  of  their 
salvation  that  sustained  Him  during  the  horror  of  His  pas- 
sion ;  in  the  agony  of  His  prayer ;  when  His  sacred  flesh 
was  torn  at  the  pillar ;  when  the  cruel  thorns  were  driven 
into  His  most  holy  brows ;  when,  with  drooping  head  and 
wearied  eyes,  and  body  streaming  blood  from  every  open 
wound,  He  was  raised  up  on  the  Cross,  to  die  heart-broken 


184  IRELAND  AND  THE  IBI8E. 

and  abandoned,  with  the  anger  of  God,  and  the  insults  of 
men  poured  upon  Him.  Patrick  knew  all  this,  and  it  filled 
him  with  transports  of  zeal  for  souls  ;  so  that,  like  the  great 
Apostle,  he  wished  to  be  as  accursed  for  them  ;  and  to  die  a 
thousand  times  rather  than  that  one  soul,  purchased  so 
dearly,  and  tlie  offspring  of  so  much  love  and  sorrow,  should 
perish.  Therefore,  did  he  make  himself  the  slave  and  tjie 
servant  of  all,  that  he  might  gain  all  to  God.  And  in  his 
mission  of  salvation  no  difficulties  retarded  him,  no  danger 
frightened  him,  no  labor  or  sacrifice  held  him  back  ;  no  sick- 
ness subdued  him ;  no  infirmity  of  body  or  mind  overcame 
him.  Old  age  came  upon  him,  yet  he  spared  not  himself; 
nor  did  he  for  a  moment  sit  down  to  count  his  years,  or  to 
number  his  triumphs,  or  to  consider  his  increasing  wants ; 
but  his  voice  was  clear  and  strong  and  his  arm  untiring, 
though  he  had  reaped  a  harvest  of  many  years,  and  had 
borne  "  the  burthen  of  the  day  and  the  heat ; "  and  his  heart 
was  young,  for  it  was  still  growing  in  the  faith  of  those 
around  him.  Even  to  the  last  day  of  his  life  "  his  youth 
was  renewed  like  the  eagle."  He  repeatedly  journeyed 
throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land,  caring  and 
tending,  with  prayer,  and  blessing,  and  tears,  the  plants 
which  he  had  planted  in  this  new  vineyard  of  God ;  and 
"  grace  was  poured  abroad  from  his  lips,"  and  "  virtue  went 
forth  from  him ;  "  until  the  world  was  astonished  at  the  sight 
of  a  whole  nation  converted  by  one  man :  and  the  promise 
made  of  old  was  fulfilled  in  Patrick :  "  I  will  deliver  to  thee 
every  place  that  the  sole  of  thy  foot  shall  tread  upon  ;  and 
no  man  shall  be  able  to  resist  thee  all  the  days  of  thy  life." 
And  now  we  come  to  the  question,  what  did  St.  Patrick 
teach,  and  in  what  form  of  Christianity  did  he  expend  him- 
self for  God.  For  fifteen  hundred  years,  my  brethren, 
Christianity  meant  one  thing,  one  doctrine,  one  faith,  one 
authority,  one  baptism.  Now,  however,  in  our  day,  this 
same  Christianity,  though  as  undivided,  as  true,  as  exclusive, 
as  definite  as  ever,  is  made  to  signify  many  things :  and 
men,  fondly  imagining  that  our  ancestors  had  no  greater 
unity  than  ourselves,  ask  what  form  of  doctrine  did  St.  Pat- 
rick preach  to  the  Irish  people  ?  I  answer :  he  preached 
the  whole  cycle  of  Catholic  truth,  as  it  was  in  the  beginning, 
is  now,  and  ever  shall  be,  to  the  end  of  time.  He  taught 
them  that  Christ's  most  sacred  body  and  blood  are  really 


8T,  PATRICK  185 

and  truly  present  in  the  Blessed  Eucharist ;  so  that  we  find 
an  Irish  writer  of  the  same  century  (Sedulius)  using  the 
words :  "  We  are  fed  on  the  body  and  the  members  of  Christ, 
and  so  we  are  made  the  temples  of  God."  Again,  the  language 
used  by  the  Irish  Church  at  the  time  (as  even  the  Protes- 
tant Bishop  Usher  acknowledges),  concerning  the  Mass,  was 
*'  the  making  the  body  of  the  Lord."  In  support  of  the 
same  truth  we  have  the  beautiful  legend  of  St.  Bridgid, 
which,  even  if  its  truth  be  disputed,  still  points  to  the  popu- 
lar faith  and  love  whence  it  sprang; — how,  when  a  certain 
child,  named  Nennius,*  was  brought  to  her,  she  blessed  him, 
and  prophesied  that  his  hand  should  one  day  give  her  the 
Holy  Communion;  whereupon  the  boy  co"^red  his  right 
hand,  and  never  again  let  it  touch  any  profane  thing,  nor  be 
even  uncovered;  so  that  he  was  called  Me^iU]*  t)<v  I^tt)  sl-af 
{NenniiLS  na  la/mh  glas,)  or,  Nennius  of  the  clean  hand,  out 
of  devotion  and  love  to  the  most  Holy  Sacrament.  St.  Pat- 
rick taught  the  doctrine  of  penance  and  confession  of  sins 
and  priestly  absolution ;  for  we  find,  amongst  other  proofs, 
an  old  penitential  canon  of  a  synod  held  under  the  Saint 
himself,  in  450,  in  which  it  is  decreed  that :  "  K  a  Christian 
kill  a  man,  or  commit  fornication,  or  go  into  a  soothsayer 
after  the  manner  of  the  Gentiles,  he  shall  do  a  year  of  pen- 
ance ;  when  his  year  of  penance  is  over,  he  shall  come  with 
witnesses ;  and  afterwards  he  shall  be  absolved  by  the  priest." 
He  taught  the  invocation  of  saints,  as  is  evident  from  nu- 
merous records  of  the  time.  Thus  in  a  most  .Ancient  life  of 
St.  Bridgid  we  find  the  words  "  there  are  two  holy  Virgins 
in  Heaven,  who  may  undertake  my  protection — Mary  and 
Bridgid — on  whose  patronage  let  each  of  us  depend."  In 
like  manner,  we  find,  in  the  synods  of  the  time,  laws  con- 
cerning the  "  oblations  for  the  dead."  In  the  most  ancient 
Irish  missals,  Masses  for  the  dead  are  found,  with  such  pray- 
ers as,  "  Grant,  O  Lord,  that  this  holy  oblation  may  work 
pardon  for  the  dead  and  salvation  for  the  living."  And  in 
a  most  ancient  life  of  St.  Brendan  it  is  stated  that  **  the 
prayer  of  the  living  doth  much  profit  the  dead." 

But,  my  brethren,  as  in  the  personal  character  of  the 
Saint  there  were  some  amongst  his  virtues  that  shone  out 
more  conspicuously  than  the  others,  so  in  his  teaching  there 
were  certain  points  which  appear  more  prominently,  which 
seemed  to  be  impressed  upon  the  people  more  forcibly,  and 


186  IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRISH. 

to  have  taken  peculiar  hold  of  the  national  mind.  Let  us 
consider  what  these  peculiar  features  of  St.  Patrick's  teach- 
ing were,  and  we  shall  see  how  they  reveal  to  us  what  I  pro- 
pose as  the  third  point  of  this  sermon ;  namely,  the  merciful 
providence  of  God  over  the  Irish  Church  and  people.  They 
were  the  following: — Fidelity  to  St.  Peter's  chair  and  to 
Peter's  successor,  the  Pope  of  Rome ;  devption  to  the  Blessed 
Virgin  Mary ;  prayer  and  remembrance  for  the  dead ;  and 
confiding  obedience  and  love  for  their  bishops  and  priests. 
These  were  the  four  great  prominent  features  of  Patrick's 
teaching.  By  the  first, — namely,  fidelity  to  the  Pope, — he 
secured  the  unity  of  the  Irish  Church  as  a  living  member  of 
the  Catholic  Church ;  by  the  second, — devotion  to  the 
Blessed  Virgin, — he  secured  the  purity  and  morality  of  the 
people ;  by  the  third,  care  of  the  dead, — he  enlisted  on  the 
side  of  Catholic  truth  the  natural  love  and  strong  feelings  of 
the  Irish  character  ;  and  by  the  last, — attachment  and  obe- 
dience to  the  priesthood, — he  secured  to  the  Irish  Church 
the  principle  of  internal  union,  which  is  the  secret  of  her 
strength.  He  preached  fidelity  and  unswerving  devotion  to 
the  Pope ;  the  head  of  fhe  Catholic  Church.  Coming  direct 
from  Rome,  and  filled  with  ecclesiastical  knowledge,  he 
opened  up  before  the  eyes  of  his  new  children,  and  revealed 
to  them,  the  grand  design  of  Almighty  God  in  His  Church. 
He  showed  them,  in  the  world  around -them,  the  wonderful 
harmony  which  speaks  of  God.  Then,  rising  into  the  higher 
world  of  grace-,  he  preached  to  them  the  still  more  wonder- 
ful harmony  of  redemption  and  of  the  Church ; — the  Church, 
so  vast  as  to  fill  the  whole  earth,  yet  as  united  in  doctrine 
and  practice  as  if  she  embraced  only  the  members  of  one 
small  family  or  the  inhabitants  of  one  little  village ;  the 
Church,  embracing  all  races  of  men,  and  leaving  to  all  theii* 
full  individual  freedom  of  thought  and  action  ;  yet  animating 
all  with  one  soul,  quickening  all  as  with  one  life,  and  one 
heart,  guiding  all  with  the  dictates  of  one  immutable  con- 
science, and  keeping  every  member, — even  the  least, — under 
the  dominion  of  one  head.  Such  was  the  Church  on  which 
Patrick  engrafted  Ireland.  "A  glorious  Church,  without 
spot  or  wrinkle ; "  a  perfect  body,  the  very  mystical  body  of 
Jesus  Christ,  through  which  "  we,  being  wild  olives,  are  en- 
grafted on  Him,  the  true  olive  tree,"  so  that  "we  are  made 
the  flesh  of  His  flesh,  and  bone  of  His  bones." 


BT.  PATRICK.  187 

Now,  Patrick  taught  our  fathers,  with  truth,  that  the 
soul,  the  life,  the  heart,  the  conscience,  and  the  head  of  the 
Church  is  Jesus  Christ;  and  that  His  representative  on 
earth,  to  whom  He  has  communicated  all  His  graces  and 
powers  is  the  Pope  of  Rome,  the  visible  head  of  God's 
Church,  the  Bishop  of  Bishops,  the  centre  of  unity  and  of 
doctrine,  tlie  rock  and  the  corner-stone  on  which  the  whole 
edifice  of  the  Church  is  founded  and  built  up.  All  this  he 
pointed  out  in  the  Scriptures,  from  the  words  of  our  Lord 
to  Peter.  P^ter  was  the  shepherd  of  the  fold,  whose  duty- 
it  was  to  feed  both  lambs  and  sheep  with  "  every  word  that 
Cometh  from  the  mouth  of  God."  Peter  was  the  rock  to 
sustain  and  uphold  the  Church :  "  thou  art  Peter,  and  upon 
this  rock  I  will  build  my  Church,"  .  (words  which  are  the 
very  touchstone  of  faith  in  these  days  of  sorrow.)  Peter's 
was  the  strong,  unerring  voice  which  was  ever  to  be  heard 
in  the  Church,  defining  her  doctrines,  warning  ofi"  enemies, 
denouncing  errors,  rebuking  sinners,  guiding  the  doubtful, 
strengthening  the  weak,  confirming  the  strong;  for  Jesus 
said :  "  thou,  O  Peter,  confirm  thy  brethren."  Patrick 
taught  the  Irish  people  not  to  be  scandalized  if  they  saw  the 
cross  upon  Peter's  shoulders,  and  the  crown  of  thorns  upon 
his  head  ;  for  so  Christ  lives  in  His  Church  and  in  her  Su- 
preme Pastor.  But  he  also  taught  them  that  he  who  strikes 
Peter  strikes  the  Lord ;  he  taught  them  what  history  has 
taught  us,  that  "  whosoever  shall  fall  upon  that  stone  shall 
be  bruised ;  and  upon  whomsoever  it  shall  fall  it  will  grind 
him.  to  powder."  He  taught  them  that  in  the  day  when 
they  separated  from  Peter  they  separated  from  Christ,  as  did 
the  foolish  men  in  the  Gospel :  "  After  this  many  of  his 
disciples  went  back  and  walked  no  more  with  him.  Then 
Jesus  said  to  the  twelve,  *  will  you  also  go  away? '  And  Si- 
inon  Peter  answered  Him :  *  Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go  ? 
Thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal  life.' "  Thus  it  was,  my 
brethren,  that  Patrick  bound  them  to  "the  rock  of  ages," 
to  Peter's  chair,  with  firmest  bonds  of  obedience  and  love, 
and  infused  into  their  souls  that  supernatural  instinct,  which, 
for  fifteen  hundred  years,  has  kept  them,  through  good  re- 
port and  evil  report,  through  persecution  and  sorrow,  faith- 
ful and  loyal  to  the  Holy  See  of  Rome.  It  was  a  bond  of 
obedience  and  love  that  bound  Ireland  to  Rome.  Thus,  in 
the  beginning  of  the  seventh  century,  when  the  Irish  Bish- 


188  IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRISH. 

ops  assembled  to  consider  the  question  of  celebrating 
Easter,  we  find  the  Fathers  selecting  some  '*  wise  and  humble 
men,"  and  sending  them  to  Rome  for  instruction,  "  as  chil- 
dren to  their  mother  ; "  and  this  in  obedience  to  a  primitive 
law  of  the  Irish  Church,  which  enacted  that,  in  every  diffi- 
culty that  might  arise,  "  the  question  should  be  referred  to 
the  "  Head  of  Cities,"  as  Rome  was  called.  This  devotion  to 
the  Holy  See  saved  Ireland  in  the  day  of  trial. 

The  next  great  feature  in  Patrick's  preaching  was  devo- 
tion to  the  Mother  of  God.  Of  this  we  have  abundant  proof 
in  the  numerous  churches  built  and  dedicated  to  God  under 
her  name.  Ce<VTt)poiU  2buiTie  {Teampoill  Mhuire),  Mary's 
Church,  became  a  familiar  name  in  the  land.  In  the  far  west 
of  Ireland,  where  the  traditions  of  our  holy  Faith  are  still 
preserved,  enshrined  in  the  purest  form  of  our  grand  old 
Celtic  language,  the  sweet  name  of  the  Mother  of  God  is 
heard  in  the  prayers  and  songs  of  the  people,  in  their  daily 
familiar  converse,  in  the  supplications  of  the  poor ;  not  un- 
der the  title  of  "our  Lady,"  or  of  "the  Blessed  Virgin,"  but 
by  the  still  more  endearing  name  of  2t)ttiTve  2b<vc<xiTi  {Muire 
Jfathair),  "  Mary  Mother."  And  so  it  was  that  Patrick  sent 
his  Catholic  doctrines  home  to  the  hearts  of  the  people.  He 
preached  Jesus  Christ  under  the  name  by  which  He  is  still 
known  and  adored  in  that  far  western  land, — 20<xc  i)<v 
20<vT5biT)e  (Mac  na  Maighdine),  "  the  Yii^n's  Son,"  thus 
admirably  insinuating  the  great  mystery  of  the  Incarnation, 
and  preaching  Jesus  through  Mary.  And  Mary  herself  he 
preached,  with  all  her  graces  and  glories,  as  "  Mary  Mother." 
The  example  of  her  virginal  purity  and  maternal  love  he 
made  the  type  of  the  Irish  maiden  and  mother;  and  so  well 
did  they  learn  their  high  lesson,  that  they  have  been  for  ages 
the  admiration  of  the  world,  and  the  glory  of  their  afflicted 
country.  The  devotion  to  Mary  sank  de^p  into  the  heart  of 
the  nation.  So  well  had  they  already  learned  to  love  and 
appreciate  her,  that,  in  a  few  years  after  their  conversion  to 
the  Faith,  when  they  would  express  their  love  and  admira- 
tion for  the  first  great  Irish  virgin  Saint,  St.  Bridgid, — they 
thought  they  had  crowned  her  with  glory  when  they  called 
her  "  the  Mary  of  Ireland."  This  devotion  to  Mary  was  a 
protecting  shield  over  Ireland  in  the  day  of  her  battle  for 
the  Faith. 

The  third  great  prominent  point  in  St.  Patrick's  preach- 


8T.  PATRICK.      -  189 

ing  was  the  doctrine  of  Purgatory,  and,  consequently, 
careful  thought  and  earnest  prayer  for  the  dead.  This  is 
attested  by  the  ordinances  of  the  most  ancient  Irish  Synods, 
in  which  oblations,  prayers,  and  sacrifice  for  the  dead  are 
frequently  mentioned,  as  evidently  being  the  practice,  fre- 
quent and  loving,  of  the  people.  They  were  not  unmindful 
of  the  dead,  "  like  others  who  have  no  hope."  Every 
ancient  church  had  its  little  graveyard ;  and  the  jealous  care 
of  the  people,  even  to  this  day,  for  these  consecrated  spots, 
and  the  loving  tenacity  with  which  they  have  clung  to  them 
at  all  times, — speak  of  their  faith  in  this  great  doctrine,  and 
tell  us  how  much  Irish  hope  and  love  surround  the  grave. 
"  Nothing  is  our  own  except  our  dead,"  says  the  poet :  and 
so  these  affectionate  hearts  took  with  joy  the  doctrine  of 
mercy,  and  carried  their  love  and  their  prayer  beyond  the 
tomb  into  the  lealms  of  expiation,  where  the  dross  of  earth 
is  purged  away,  the  gold  and  silver  are  refined,  and  souls 
saved  are  prepared  for  Bfeaven,  "  yet  so  as  by  fire."  This 
doctrine  of  the  Church,  so  forcibly  taught  by  Patrick,  and 
warmly  accepted  by  the  Irish  people,  was  also  a  great  de- 
fence to  the  nation's  faith  during  the  long  ages  of  persecu- 
tion and  sorrow. 

Finally,  the  great  Saint  established  between  the  people 
and  their  priesthood  the  firmest  bonds  of  mutual  confidence 
and  love.  In  the  Catholic  Church,  the  priest  is  separated 
from  men  and  consecrated  to  God.  The  duties  of  his  office 
are  so  high,  so  holy,  and  supernatural,  and  require  such 
purity  of  life  and  devotion  of  soul,  that  he  must  of  neces- 
sity stand  aloof  from  amongst  men,  and  engage  himself  with 
God  ;  for,  to  use  the  words  of  the  Apostle,  he  is  "  the  min- 
ister of  Christ  and  the  dispenser  of  the  mysteries  of  God." 
Hence  every  Catholic  looks  upon  the  priest  as  a  supernatural 
man ;  supernatural  in  the  unction  of  -his  priesthood,  in  his 
office,  his  power,  his  life,  his  duties,  and  most  sacred  in  his 
person  as  the  anointed  of  the  Lord.  This  was  the  idea  of 
the  priesthood  which  Saint  Patrick  impressed  upon  the 
Irish  people.  The  very  name  by  which  the  priest  has  ever 
been  known  in  our  language,  and  which  has  no  correspond- 
ing word  in  the  English  tongue,  signifies  "  a  sacred  man 
and  a  giver  of  sacred  things."  Such  is  the  exalted  dignity 
of  the  priesthood,  such  the  knowledge,  the  matured  sanctity, 
required  for,  and  the  tremendous  obligations  and  duties  im- 


190  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

posed  upon  it,  that  we  generally  find  the  first  priests  of  a 
newly  converted  people  strangers ;  men  who  in  Christian 
lands  were  brought  up  and  educated  for  their  high  mission* 
It  would  seem  as  if  the  young  Christianity  of  a  people,  like 
a  -vine  but  newly  planted,  were  unable  yet  to  bear  such  full 
matured  fruit  of  holiness.  But  it  was  not  so  in  Ireland,  my 
brethren.  There  we  behold  a  singular  instance  of  a  people 
who  immediately  produced  a  national  priesthood.  The 
priests  and  bishops  of  Ireland,  who  assisted  and  succeeded 
Saint  Patrick  in  his  great  work,  were  almost  to  a  man  Irish- 
men. So  congenial  was  the  soil  on  which  the  seedling  of 
Christianity  fell,  that,  forthwith,  it  sprung  up  into  the 
goodly  tree  of  all  holiness  and  power.  And  so  the  aged 
Apostle  saw  around  him,  in  "  the  ring  of  his  brethren," 
those  whom  he  had  himself  baptized,  anointed  and  conse- 
crated to  the  ministry  of  God's  altar  and  people.  Taken 
thus  from  the  heart  of  the  people,  they  returned  to  them  again 
laden  with  Divine  gifts,  and  living  in  the  midst  of  them, 
joyfully  and  contentedly  ministered  unto  them  "  in  all  the 
things  that  are  of  God."  A  community  of  joy  and  sorrow, 
of  good  and  of  evil  was  thus  established  between  the  priest- 
hood and  the  people  of  Ireland ;  an  intercourse  the  most 
familiar  yet  most  reverential ;  an  union  of  the  strictest  kind, 
founded  in  faith,  fidelity,  and  afiection,  and  cemented  by 
centuries  of  tears  and  of  blood. 

For  more  than  a  thousand  years  the  work  of  Saint 
Patrick  was  the  glory  of  Christendom.  The  virgin  Church 
of  Ireland,  unstained  even  by  one  martyr's  blood,  became 
the  prolific  mother  of  Saints.  Strange  indeed  and  singular 
in  its  glory  was  the  destiny  of  Innisfail.  The  Irish  Church 
knew  no  childhood,  no  ages  of  painful  and  uncertain  strug- 
gle to  put  on  Christian  usages  and  establish  Christian  tradi- 
tions. Like  the  children  in  the  early  ages  of  the  Church, 
who  were  confirmed  in  infancy,  inmiediately  after  Baptism, 
Ireland  was  called  upon,  as  soon  as  converted,  to  become  at 
once  the  mother  of  saints,  the  home  and  refuge  of  learning, 
the  gr«at  instructress  of  the  nations  ;  and,  perhaps,  the  his- 
tory of  the  world  does  not  exhibit  a  more  striking  and  glo- 
rious sight  than  Ireland  for  the  three  hundred  years  imme- 
diately follo\fing  her  conversion  to  the  Catholic  faith.  The 
•  whole  Island  was  covered  with  schools  and  monasteries,  in 
which  men  the  most  reno'wpied  of  their  age,  both  for  learn* 


8T.  PATRICK  191 

ing  and  sanctity,  received  the  thousands  of  students  who 
flocked  to  them  from  every  land.  Whole  cities  were  given 
up  to  them,  as  we  read  of  Armagh,  which  was  divided  into 
three  parts, — "  Trian-mor^''  or  the  town  proper ;  "  Trian- 
Patrick,  "*  or  the  Cathedral  close ;  and  "  2\ian-Sa88enagh^^ 
or  the  Latin  quarter,  the  home  of  the  foreign  students. 
To  the  students  the  evening  star  gave  the  signal  for  retire- 
ment, and  the  morning  sun  for  awaking.  When,  at  the 
sound  of  the  early  bell,  says  the  historian,  "  two  or  three 
thousand  of  them  poured  into  the  silent  streets,  and  made 
their  way  towards  the  lighted  church,  to  join  in  the  service 
of  matins,  mingling,  as  they  went  or  returned,  the  tongues 
of  the  Gael,  the  Cimbri,  the  Pict,  the  Saxon,  and  the  Frank, 
or  hailing  and  answering  each  other  in  the  universal  lan- 
guage of  the  Roman  Church,  the  Angels  in  Heaven  must 
have  loved  to  contemplate  the  union  of  so  much  pereever- 
ance  with  so  much  piety."  And  thus  it  was,  not  only  in  St. 
Patrick's  own  city  of  Armagh,  but  in  Bangor,  in  Clonard, 
in  Clonmacnoise,  in  Mayo ;  of  the  Saxons  in  Tagmahon, 
and  Beg-Erin,  on  the  Slaney ;  in  famed  Lismore,  on  the 
Black  water ;  in  Mungret,  on  the  lordly  Shannon ;  in  the 
far-oflf  islands  of  Arran,  in  the  Western  ocean ;  and  in 
many  another  sainted  and  historic  spot,  where  the  round 
tower  and  the  group  of  seven  churches  still  remain,  silent 
but  eloquent  witnesses  of  the  sanctity  and  the  glory  of  Ire- 
land's first  Christianity.  The  nations,  beholding  and  admir- 
ing the  lustre  of  learning  and  sanctitywhich  shone  forth  in 
the  Holy  Isle,  united  in  conferring  upon  Ireland  the  proud- 
est title  ever  yet  given  to  a  land,  or  a  people ;  they  called 
her  "the  Island  of  Saints  and  Doctors." 

The  voice  of  history  clearly  and  emphatically  proclaims 
that  the  intellectual  supremacy  and  guidance  of  the  Chris- 
tian world  belonged  to  Ireland  from  the  sixth  to  the  ninth 
centuries.  But,  although  religion  may  flourish  in  the  halls 
of  the  university,  and  be  fairly  illustrated  in  the  peaceful 
lives  of  the  Saints,  yet,  there  is  one  crown,  and  that,  indeed, 
the  very  countersign  of  faith,  **  victoria  quce  vindt  mundumy 
fides"  (the  victory  which  conquers  the  world, — our  faith) 
which  can  only  rest  on  the  brows  of  a  Church  and  a  nation 
which  have  been  tried  in  the  arena  of  persecution  and  war ; 
and  that  crown  is  victory.  Th^  bay  tree  may  flourish  by 
the  river  side ;  the  cedar  may  rear  its  majestic  head  on  the 


<iT^ 


192  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

mountain  top ;  leaf  and  fair  flower,  and  the  fulness  of  fruit 
may  be  there ;  but  it  is  only  in  the  dark  hour,  when  the 
storm  sweeps  over  the  earth,  and  every  weak  thing  yields  to 
it,  and  is  carried  away  by  its  fury,  that  the  good  tree  is 
tested,  and  its  strength  is  proved.  Then  do  men  see  whether 
it  has  struck  it  roots  deep  into  the  soil,  and  so  twined  them 
about  the  hidden  rocks,  that  no  power  can  tear  them  out. 
The  good  ship  may  sail  before  the  prosperous  gales,  and  "  walk 
the  waters "  in  all  her  beauty  and  majesty ;  but  it  is  only 
on  the  morning  after  the  storm,  when  the  hurricane  has 
swept  over  the  face  of  the  deep,  when  the  angry  waves  have 
beaten  upon  her,  and  strained  to  its  utmost  every  element  of 
her  strength — seeking  to  destroy  her,  but  in  vain — that  the 
sailor  knows  that  he  can  trust  to  the  heart  of  oak,  and  sleep 
securely  in  his  noble  vessel.  Thus  it  is  with  the  Church  in 
Ireland.  Her  beauty  and  her  sanctity  were  known  and  ad- 
mired both  of  God  and  man.  But  her  Lord  was  resolved 
that  she  should  wear  such  a  crown  of  victory  as  never  was 
placed  on  a  nation's  brows ;  and  therefore,  at  two  distinct 
j)eriods  of  her  history,  was  she  obliged  to  meet  and  conquer 
a  storm,  of  persecution  and  of  war  unequalled  in  the  world's 
annals. 

The  first  of  these  great  trials  came  "upon  Irelandx  at  the 
beginning  of  the  ninth  century,  when  the  Northmen,  or 
Danes,  invaded  the  country,  in  mighty  force.  They  came 
not  only  as  the  enemies  of  Ireland's  nationality,  but  much 
more  of  her  faith ;  and  we  invariably  find  that  their  first 
and  most  destructive  fury  was  directed  against  the  churches, 
monasteries  and  schools.  The  gloomy  and  terrible  worship 
of  Odin  was  to  replace  the  religion  of  Christ;  and  for 
three  hundred  long  years  the  whole  land  was  covered  with 
bloodshed  and  confusion,  the  nation  fighting,  with  heroic 
courage  and  perseverance,  in  defence  of  its  altars  and 
homes;  until,  at  the  close  of  the  eleventh  century,  Ireland 
rose  up  in  her  imited  strength,  shook  oflT  the  Pagan  and 
fierce  invaders  from  her  virgin  bosom,  and  cast  them  into 
the  sea.  The  faith  and  religion  of  Christ  triumphed ;  and 
Ireland  was  as  Catholic,  though  far  from  being  as  holy,  at 
the  end  of  the  eleventh  as  she  was  at  the  end  of  the  eighth 
century.  -  . 

Now  we  can  only  realize  the  greatness  of  this  result  by 
comparing  it  with  the  history  of  other  nations.     Behold,  for 


ST.  PATRICK. 


193 


instance,  how  completely  the  Mussulman  invasions  destroyed 
the  Christianity  of  those  ancient  peoples  of  the  East  who  had 
received  the  faith  from  the  lips  of  the  Apostles  themselves ; 
how  thoroughly  the  Saracens  succeeded,  in  a  few  years,  in 
destroying  the  Christian  faith  of  the  north  of  Africa, — that 
once  famous  and  flourishing  Church,  the  Alexandria  of  St. 
Mark,  the  Hippo  of  St.  Augustine,  the  Carthage  of  St.  Cy- 
prian. History  attests  "that  nothing  is  more  subversive  of 
the  religion  of  a  people  than  long-continued  war :  and  of  this 
great  truth  we  have,  without  going  to  the  East  or  to  Africa, 
a  most  melancholy  proof  in  the  history  of  England.  "  The 
Wars  of  the  Roses,"  as  the  strife  between  the  Houses  of 
Lancaster  and  York  was  called,  cover  a  space  of  only  thirty 
years,  from  1455  to  1485.  This  war  was  not  directed  at  all 
against  religion,  but  was  simply  a  contention  of  two  great  rival 
Houses  struggling  for  the  sovereignty;  and  yet  it  so  demor- 
alized the  English  people,  that  they  were  prepared  to  accept, 
almost  without  a  struggle,  the  monstrous  form  of  religious 
error  imposed  upon  them  at  the  so-called  Reformation, — an 
heretical  church  with  a  tyrant,  an  adulterer,  and  a  murderer 
for  its  head.  Contrast  with  these,  and  many  other  such 
terrible  examples,  the  glory  of  a  nation  that  emerged  from  a 
contest  of  three  hundred  years, — which  was  really  a  reli- 
gious war, — with  faith  unimpaired  and  untarnished  by  the 
least  stain  of  superstition  or  infidelity  to  God. 

It  is  not  necessary  for  us  to-day  to  recall  the  sad  events 
that  succeeded  the  termination  of  the  Danish  invasion  of 
Ireland.  The  crown  of  empire  fell  from  Ireland's  brows,  and 
the  heart  broke  in  the  nation's  bosom. 

*'  The  emerald  gem  of  the  western  world 
Was  set  in  the  crown  of  the  stranger." 

It  is,  however,  worthy  of  remark,  that  although  Ireland 
never  was  united  in  her  opposition  to  her  English  invader, 
as  she  had  been  at  Clontarf,  still  the  contest  for  national 
existence  was  so  gallantly  maintained,  that  it  was  four  hun- 
dred years  after  the  first  Norman  invasion  before  the  Eng- 
lish Monarch  ventured  to  assume  the  title  of  "  King  of  Ire- 
land." It  was  in  1169  the  English  first  landed,  and  it  was 
on  the  19th  of  June,  1541,  that  the  royalty  of  Ireland  was 
first  transferred  to  an  English  dynasty,  and  the  Lordship  of 
the  Island  of  Saints  conferred  on  one  of  the  most  wicked  and 
9 


194:  IRELAND  AND  THE  lEISS. 

inhuman  monsters  that  ever  cursed  the  earth,  King  Henry 
the  Eighth. 

And  now  a  new  era  of  persecution  and  sorrow  opened 
upon  Ireland.  The  nation  was  commanded  to  give  up  ita 
faith  and  religion.  Never,  since  the  beginning  of  the  world, 
was  an  all-important  question  more  solemnly  put :  never  has 
it  been  more  triumphantly  and  clearly  answered.  The  ques- 
tion was :  Were  the  Irish  people  prepared  to  stand  by  their 
ancient  faith,  to  unite  in  defence  of  their  altars,  to  close 
with  the  mighty  persecuting  power  of  England,  and  fight 
her  in  the  cause  of  religion.  Solemnly  and  deliberately  did 
Ireland  take  up  the  gage  and  accept  the  great  challenge. 
The  issue  seemed  scarcely  doubtful.  The  world  refused  to 
believe  that  a  people  who  could  never  be  united  in  the 
defence  of  their  national  existence  would  unite  as  one  man 
in  defence  of  religion;  or  that  the  power  which  had  suc- 
ceeded in  breaking  Ireland's  sceptre  and  wresting  her  crown 
should  be  utterly  defeated  in  its  mightiest  and  most  persist- 
ent efforts  to  destroy  Ireland's  ancient  faith.  Yet  so  it  was 
to  be.  The  "  Island  of  Saints  and  Doctors  "  was  destined  to  \ 
be  a  land  of  heroes  and  martyrs ;  and  the  sacred  cause  of 
Ireland's  nationality  was  destined  to  be  saved  in  the  victory 
which  crowned  her  wonderful  and  glorious  battle  for  her 
faith.  This  is  not  the  time,  nor  the  occasion,  to  dwell  upon 
the  details  of  that  terrible  struggle  in  which  the  whole 
strength  of  earth's  mightiest  people  was  put  forth  against  us ; 
which  lasted  for  three  hundred  years ;  which  was  fought  out 
on  a  thousand  battle-fields ;  which  deluged  Irfeland  with  the 
best  blood  of  her  children,  and  reduced  her  fairest  provinces, 
over  and  over  again,  to  the  condition  of  a  waste  and  desert 
land.  But  the  Celt  was  intrenched  in  the  citadel  of  God; 
the  light  of  divine  truth  was  upon  his  path,  the  power  of 
the  Most  High  nerved  his  arm,  and  the  spirit  of  Patrick 
hung  over  him,  like  the  fiery  cloud  that  overshadowed  the 
hosts  of  Israel  upon  the  plains  of  Edom  and  Madian. 

Ireland's  preservation  of  the  Catholic  faith  has  been  a 
puzzle  to  the  world,  and  men  have  sought  to  explain  in 
many  different  ways  the  extraordinary  phenomenon.  Some 
ascribe  it  to  our  natural  antipathy  and  opposition  to  Eng- 
land and  everything  English ;  others  again  allege  the  strong 
conservatism  of  the  Irish  character,  and  its  veneration  for 
ancient  rites  and  usages,  merely  because  they  are  ancient ; 


ST.  PATRICK.  195 

whilst  English  historians  and  philosophers  love  to  attribute 
it  to  the  natural  obstinacy  and  wrong-headedness  which  they 
say  is  inherent  in  the  Irish.  I  do  not  deny  that  amongst  the 
minor  and  human  causes  that  influenced  the  religious  action 
of  the  Irish  people,  there  may  have  been  a  hatred  and  de- 
testation of  England.  The  false  religion  was  presented  to 
our  fathers  by  the  detested  hands  that  had  robbed  Ireland 
of  her  crown  ;  it  was  offered  at  the  point  of  the  sword  that 
had  shed  (often  treacherously  and  foully,)  the  blood  of  her 
bravest  sons ;  the  nauseous  dose  of  Protestantism  was  mixed 
in  the  bowl  that  poisoned  the  last  of  her  great  chieftains — 
Owen  Roe  O'Neil.  All  this  may  have  been  told  with  the 
Irish  people ;  and  I  also  admit  that  a  Church  and  religion 
claiming  to  be  of  God,  with  such  a  divinely  appointed  head 
as  the  saintly  Henry  the  Eighth, — such  a  nursing  mother  as 
the  chaste  Elizabeth, — such  gentle  missionaries  as  the  hu- 
mane and  tender-hearted  Oliver  Cromwell,  may  have  pre- 
sented difficulties  to  a  people  whose  wits  were  sharpened  by 
adversity,  and  who  were  not  wholly  ignorant  of  t^e  Chris- 
tian character  as  illustrated  in  the  history  and  traditions  of 
their  native  land.  We  may  also  admit  to  a  slight  extent 
the  conservatism  of  the  Irish  character  and  its  veneration 
for  antiquity.  Oh,  how  much  our  fathers  had  to  love  in 
their  ancient  religion!  Their  history  began  with  their 
Christianity;  their  glories  were  all  intertwined  with  their 
religion ;  their  national  banner  was  inscribed  with  the  em- 
blem of  their  faith,  "  the  green  immortal  shamrock ; "  the 
brightest  names  in  their  history  were  all  associated  with 
their  religion ; — "  Malachi  of  the  collar  of  gold,"  dying  in 
the  midst  of  the  Monks,  and  clothed  with  their  holy  habit, 
on  an  island  of  Lough  Ennel,  near  Mullingar,  in  Meath ; — 
Brian,  "  the  great  King,"  upholding  the  crucifix  before  his 
army,  on  the  morning  of  Clontarf,  and  expiring  in  its  em- 
braces before  the  sun  set ; — the  brave  Murchertach  O'Brien 
answering  fearlessly  the  threat  of  William  Rufus ; — for  when 
the  English  King  said,  looking  towards  Ireland,  "  I  will 
bring  hither  my  ships,  and  pass  over  and  conquer  the  land  ;  " 
"  Hath  the  King,"  asked  the  Irish  Monarch,  "  in  his  great 
threatenings,  said,  ^if  it  please  God?  '"  And  when  an- 
swered, no ;  "  Then  tell  him,"  exclaimed  the  Irish  hero,  "  I 
fear  him  not,  since  he  putteth  his  trust  in  man  and  not  in 
God."     Roderio  O'Conor,  the  last  "High  King"  of  Ire- 


196  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

land,  closing  his  career  of  disaster  and  of  glory  amiong  the 
Canons  of  the  Abbey  of  Cong ; — saint,  and  bard,  and  hero, 
all  alike  presented  themselves  to  the  national  mind  sur- 
rounded by  the  halo  of  that  religion  which  the  people  were 
now  called  upon  to  abandon  and  despise.  Powerful  as  was 
the  appeal  of  history  and  antiquity,  I  cannot  give  it  any 
great  weight  in  the  preservation  of  Ireland's  Catholicity.  I 
do  not  believe  that  adherence  to  ancient  usage,  because  of 
its  antiquity,  is  a  prominent  feature  of  the  Irish  character. 
We  are  by  no  means  so  conservative  as  our  English  neigh- 
bors. It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  usages  and  customs  once 
common  to  both  countries,  and  long  since  abandoned  and 
forgotten  in  Ireland,  (Christmas  "  waits,"  for  instance,  har- 
vest-home feasts,  May-pole  dances,  and  the  like,)  are  still 
kept  up  faithfully  and  universally  throughout  England. 
The  bells  which,  in  Catholic  times,  called  the  people  to  early 
Mass,  on  Sunday  morning,  are  still  rung  out  as  of  old, 
through  mere  love  of  ancient  usage,  although  their  ringing 
from  Protestant  towers,  in  the  early  morning,  has  no  mean- 
ing whatever ;  for  it  invites  to  no  service  or  prayer.  And 
yet,  in  the  essential  matter  of  religion,  where  antiquity  itself 
is  a  proof  of  truth,  the  conservative  English  gave  up  the  old 
faith  for  the  new ;  whilst  the  Irish, — in  other  things  so  re- 
gardless of  antiquity, — shed  their  blood  and  died  for  the  old 
religion  rather  than  turn  for  one  instant  to  the  strsLnge  im- 
posture of  the  new. 

But  none  of  these  purely  natural  explanations  can  explain 
the  supernatural  fact  that  a  whole  people  preferred,  for  ten 
generations,  confiscation,  exile  and  death,  rather  than  sur- 
render their  faith ;  and  the  true  reason  lies  in  the  all-impor- 
tant circumstance  that  the  religion  of  the  Irish  people  was 
the  true  religion  of  Jesus  Christ,  bringing  not  only  light  to 
the  intelligence,  but  grace  and  strength  to  the  heart  and  will 
of  the  nation.  The  light  of  their  divine  faith  showed  them 
the  hollo wness  and  fallacy  of  Protestantism,  in  which  they 
recognized  an  outrage  upon  common  sense  and  reason,  as 
well  as  upon  God ;  and  the  grace  of  their  holy  Catholic  re- 
ligion enabled  them  to  suffer  and  die  in  its  defence.  Here 
it  is  that  we  recognize  the  providence  of  God  in  the  preach- 
ing of  Saint  Patrick.  The  new  and  false  religion  assailed 
precisely  those  points  of  Catholic  teaching  which  he  had  en- 
gi-aved  most  deeply  cm  the  mind  and  heart  of  Ireland,  as  if 


8T.  PATRICK,  197 

he  had  anticipated  tha  trial  and  prepared  for  it.  Attach- 
ment to  the  Holy  See  was  more  than  a  sentiment ;  it  was  a 
passion  in  the  Irish  bosom.  Through  good  report  and  et^il 
report,  Ireland  was  always  faithful  to  Peter'fi  chair  ;  and  it 
is  a  curious  fact,  that,  when  the  Christian  world,  was  confused 
by  the  pretensions  of  Antipopes,  and  all  the  nations  of 
Christendom  were,  at  one  time  or  other,  led  astray,  so  as  to 
acknowledge  some  false  pretender,  Ireland,  with  an  instinct 
truly  supernatural,  never  failed  to  discover,  to  proclaim,  and 
to  obey  the  true  Pontiff.  She  is  the  only  Catholic  nation 
that  never  was,  for  a  moment,  separated  from  Peter,  nor  mis- 
taken in"  her  allegiance  to  him.  Her  prayer,  her  obedience, 
her  love  were  the  sure  inheritance  of  each  succeeding  Pope, 
from  Celestine,  who  sent  Saint  Patrick  to  Ireland,  to  Pius, 
who,  in  our  own  day,  beheld  Patrick's' children  guai-ding  Ms 
venerable  throne,  and  prepared  to  die  in  his  glorioijs  cause. 
In  every  Catholic  land  union  with  Rome  is  a  principle.  In 
Ireland  it  was  a  devotion.  And  so,  when  the  evil  genius  of 
Protestantism  stalked  through  the  land,  and  with  loud  voice 
demanded  of  the  Irish  people  separation  from  Rome,  or 
their  lives, — the  faithful  people  of  God  consented  to  die, 
rather  than  to  renounce  the  faith  of  their  fathers,  trans- 
mitted to  them  through  the  Saints, 

Devotion  to  the  Mother  of  God  was  the  next  great  feature 
of  Patrick's  preaching  and  of  Ireland's  Catholicity.  The 
image  of  all  that  was  fairest  in  nature  and  grace,  which  arose 
before  the  eyes  of  the  people,  as  depicted  by  their  great 
Apostle,  captivated  their  imaginations  and  their  hearts. 
They  called  her  in  their  prayers  2D<vi5fc>iT)  bfl^t  [Maiglidin 
dhilish),  their  darling  Virgin.  In  every  family  in  the  land 
the  eldest  daughter  was  a  Mary ;  every  Irish  maid  or  mother 
emulated  the  purity  of  her  virginal  innocence,  or  the  strength 
and  tenderness  of  her  maternal  love.  With  the  keenness  of 
love  they  associated  their  daily  sorrows  and  joys  with  hers  ; 
and  the  ineffable  grace  of  maiden  modesty,  which  clung  to 
the  very  mothers  of  Ireland,  seemed  to  be  the  brightest  re- 
flection of  Mary  which  had  lingered  upon  the  earth.  Oh, 
how  harshly  upon  the  ears  of  such  a  people  grated  the  de- 
testable voice  which  would  rob  Mary  of  her  graces,  and  rob 
the  world  of  the  light  of  her  purity  and  the  glory  of  her  ex- 
ample 1  Never  was  the  Mother  of  God  so  dear  to  Ireland 
as  in  the  days  of  the  nation's  persecution  and  sorrow.     Not 


198  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH 

even  in  that  bright  day  when  the  "Virgin  Mary  seamed  to 
walk  the  earth,  and  to  have  made  Ireland  her  home,  in  the 
person  of  their  own  St.  Bridgid,  was  her  name  so  dear  and 
the  love  of  her  so  strong,  as  in  the  dark  and  terrible  time 
when.  Church  and  Altar  being  destroyed,  every  cabin  in  the 
land  resounded  with  Mary's  name,  invoked  in  the  Holy 
Kosary,  the  great  devotion  that  saved  Ireland's  faith. 

The  third  great  leading  feature  of  our  holy  religion  as- 
sailed by  Protestantism  was  the  sweet  and  tender  doctrine 
of  prayer  and  love  for  the  dead.  That  which  is  opposed  to 
divine  truth  is  always,  when  we  analyze  it,  an  outrage  on 
the  best  instincts  of  man.  Remembrance  of  those  who  are 
gone,  and  a  desire  to  help  them,  to  communicate  with 
them,  seems  natural  to  us  all ;  and  the  more  tender-hearted 
and  affectionate  and  loving  a  people  are,  the  more  deeply 
will  they  realize  and  appreciate  th^  Catholic  doctrine  of 
Purgatory  and  prayer  for  the  dead.  How  terrible  is  the 
separation  of  death,  as  seen  from  the  Protestant  point  of 
view.  In  the  Catholic  Church  this  mystery  of  death  is  de- 
spoiled of  its  worst  bitterness.  It  is  only  a  removal  from 
our  bodily  sight,  as  if  the  loved  one  were  only  gone  on  a 
journey  for  a  few  days,  to  return  to  us  again.  Our  inter- 
course with  him  does  not  cease ;  nay,  we  can  do  more  for 
him  now  than  ever  we  could  in  life,  and  by  our  prayers  ob- 
tain for  him  the  relief  and  consolation  that  will  never  be 
forgotten  during  the  long  day  of  eternity  in  Heaven.  To  a 
people  like  the  Irish,  naturally  affectionate,  and  strongly  at- 
tached to  each  other,  the  Christian  doctrine  of  prayer  for  the 
dead  must  always  be  grateful.  Our  history  served  to  deepen 
this  portion  of  our  Catholic  devotion  ;  for  it  was  a  history 
of  sorrow  and  of  national  privation ;  and  sorrow  softens  and 
enlarges  the  heart.  A  people  who  had  lost  so  much  in  life 
turned  the  more  eagerly  and  loxdngly  to  their  dead.  I  re- 
member once  seeing  an  aged  woman  weeping  and  praying 
over  a  grave  in  Ireland ;  and  when  I  questioned  her,  en- 
deavoring to  console  her,  she  said :  "  Let  me  cry  my  fill ;  all 
that  I  ever  had  in  this  world  are  here  in  this  grave ;  all  that 
ever  brought  me  joy  or  sorrow  is  here  under  this  sod;  and 
my  only  consolation  in  life  is  to  come  here  and  speak  to  them, 
and  pray  for  them,  and  weep."  We  may  imagine  but  we 
cannot  realize  the  indignation  of  our  fathers,  when  the  heart- 
less, sour-visaged,  cold-blooded  men  of  Geneva  came  to  them 


.    ST.  PATBIGK  199 

to  tell  them  that,  henceforth,  they  must  be  "  unmindful  of 
their  dead,  like  others  who  have  no  hope."  This  doctrine 
may  do  for  the  selfish,  light-hearted,  thoughtless  worldling, 
who  loves  nothing  in  death,  and  who  in  life  only  loves  for 
his  own  sake  ;  but  it  would  scarcely  be  acceptable  to  a  gen- 
erous, pure  and  loving  race,  and  withal  a  nation  of  mourn- 
ers, as  the  Irish  were  when  the  unnatural  doctrine  was  &:%t 
propounded  to  them. 

Finally,  the  new  religion  was  represented  to  the  Irish  peo- 
ple by  men  who  grotesquely  represented  themselves  as  suc- 
cessors of  the  Apostles.  The  popular  mind  in  Ireland  had 
derived  its  idea  of  the  Christian  priesthood  from  such  men  as 
Patrick,  Columba,  of  lona :  and  Kevin  of  Glendalough. 
The  great  majority  of  the  clergy  in  Ireland  were  at  all  times 
monastic, — men  who  added  to  the  character  and  purity  of 
the  priest,  the  sanctity  and  austerity  of  the  Cenobite.  The 
virtues  of  Ireland's  priesthood  made  them  the  admiration  of 
other  lands,  but  the  idols  of  their  own  people.  The  monas- 
tic glories  of  ancient  Lismore  and  Bangor  were  still  reflected 
from  Mellifont  and  Bective :  the  men  of  Glendalough  and 
ancient  Armagh  lived  on  in  the  Franciscan  and  Dominican 
abbeys  throughout  the  land ;  and  the  Catholic  Church  pre- 
sented in  the  sixteenth  century,  in  her  Irish  clergy,  the  same 
purity  of  life,  sanctity  and  austerity  of  morals,  zeal  and 
learning  which  illumined  the  world  in  ages  gone  by.  Steep- 
ed as  our  people  were  in  sorrow,  they  could  not  refi-ain  from 
mirth  at  the  sight  of  the  holy  "  apdstles  "  of  the  new  relig- 
ion, the  men  who  were  to  take  the  place  of  the  Catholic 
bishops,  and  priests,  and  monks,  to  teach  and  illustrate  by 
their  lives  the  purer  gospel  which  had  been  just  discovered 
— the  Mormonism  of  the  sixteenth  century.  EngUsh  rene- 
gade monks,  English  apostate  priests,  EngUsh  drunken 
brawlers,  with  a  ferocious  English  army  at  their  back,  in- 
vaded the  land,  and  parading  themselves  with  their  wives  or 
concubines,  before  the  eyes  of  the  astonished  and  disgusted 
people,  called  upon  the  children  of  Saint  Patrick  and  Saint 
Columba,  to  receive  them  as  "  the  ministers  of  Christ,  and 
the  dispensers  of  the  mysteries  of  God."  Their  religion  was 
worthy  of  them :  they  had  no  mysteries  to  dispense  to  the 
people ;  no  sacrifice,  no  penance,  no  confession  of  sin,  no 
fasting,  no  vows  to  God,  no  purity,  no  counsels  of  the  Gos- 
pel, no  sacrament  of  matrimony,  no  priesthood,  no  anointing 


200  IRELAND  AND  THE  miSff. 

of  the  sick,  no  prayer  for  the  dead.  Gracious  God  I  They 
came  to  a  people  whom  they  had  robbed  of  their  kingdom  of 
earth,  and  demanded  of  them  also  the  suiTender  of  the  King- 
dom of  Heaven  !  Was  ever  heard  such  audacity  !  What 
wonder  that  Ireland  took  her  own  priest,  her  ^^  sog garth 
a/roon^''  to  her  bosom  ! .  Never  did  she  know  his  value  till 
now.  It  was  only  when  she  had  seen  his  hideous  counterpart 
that  she  realized  all  that  she  possessed  in  the  humble  child 
of  Saint  Francis,  and  Saint  Dominic.  The  sunshine  is  aU 
the  more  welcome  when  we  have  seen  the  blackness  of  the 
night ;  the  sweet  is  all  the  sweeter  when  we  have  tasted  bit- 
terness ;  the  diamond  shines  all  the  brighter  when  its  dull, 
glassy  counterfeit  is  set  beside  it :  and  the  Angel  of  Light 
has  all  the  purer  radiance  of  Heaven  around  him,  after 
the  affrighted  eye  has  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  Spirit  of 
Darkness.  As  strangers  the  ministers  of  Protestantism 
have  lived  in  Ireland  for  three  hundred  years ;  as  strangers 
they  live  in  the  land  to-day.  The  people  and  their  clergy 
united,  "  have  fought  the  good  fight,  have  kept  the  faith," 
and  we  have  lived  to  see  the  triumph  of  that  faith  in  our 
own  day. 

Now,  I  say  that  in  all  this,  we  see  the  Providence  of  God 
in  the  labor  of  Ireland's  glorious  Apostle.  Who  can  deny 
that  the  religion  which  St.  Patrick  gave  to  Ireland  is  di- 
vine ?  A  thousand  years  of  sanctity  attest  it ;  three  hun- 
dred years  of  martyrdom  attest  it.  If  men  will  deny  the 
virtues  which  it  creates,  the  fortitude  which  it  inspires, 
let  them  look  to  the  history  of  Ireland.  If  men  say  that 
the  Catholic  religion  flourishes  only  because  of  the  splen- 
dor of  its  ceremonial,  the  grandeur  of  its  liturgy,  and  its 
appeal  .to  the  senses,  let  them  look  to  the  history  of  Ire- 
land. What  sustained  the  faith  when  the  church  and  altar 
disappeared?  when  no  light  burned,  no  organ  pealed,  but 
all  was  desolation  for  centuries?  Surely  the  Divine  life, 
which  is  the  soul  of  the  Church,  of  which  the  external  wor- 
ship and  ceremonials  are  but  the  expression.  But  if  they 
will  close  their  eyes  to  all  this,  at  least  there  is  a  fact  before 
them, — the  most  glorious  and  palpable  of  our  day, — and  it  is 
•  that  Ireland's  Catholicity  has  risen  again  to  every  external 
glory  of  worship,  and  triumphed  over  every  enemy.  Speak- 
ing of  our  Lord,  St.  Augustine  says :  "  In  that  He  died  He 
showed  Himself  man;  in  that  He  rose  again  He  proved 


•      8T.PATBICK,  201 

Himself  God."  Has  not  the  Irish  Church  risen  again  to 
more  than  her  former  glory?  The  land  is  covered  once 
more  with  fair  churches,  convents,  colleges  and  monasteries, 
as  of  old ;  and  who  shall*  say  that  the  religion  that  could 
thus  suffer  and  rise  again  is  not  from  God  ?  This  glorious 
testimony  to  God  and  to  His  Christ  is  thine,  O  holy  and 
venerable  land  of  my  birth  and  of  my  love !  O  glory  of 
earth  and  Heaven,  to-day  thy  great  Apostle  looks  down 
upon  thee  from  his  high  seat  of  bliss;  and  his  heart  re- 
joices. To-day,  the  Angels  of  God  rejoice  over  thee,  for  the 
light  of  sanctity  which  still  beams  upon  thee.  To-day,  thy 
troops  of  virgin  martyr  saints  speak  thy  praises  in  the  high 
courts  of  heaven.  And  I,  O  Mother,  far  away  from  thy 
green  bosom,  hail  thee  from  afar, — ^as  the  prophet  of  old  be- 
holding the  fair  plains  of  the  promised  land, — and  proclaim 
this  day  that  there  is  no  land  so  fair,  no  spot  of  earth  to  be 
compared  to  thee,  no  island  rising  out  of  tiie  wave  so  beau- 
tiful ;  that  neither  the  sun,  nor  the  moon,  nor  the>stars  of 
heaven  shine  down  upon  any  thing  so  lovely  as  thou  art,  O 
Erin! 


THE  IRISH  m  THEIR  RELATION  TO  CATH- 
OLICITY. 

{A  Lecture  delivered  hy  Very  Sev.  T.  N.  Burke,  O.  P.,  in  St. 
Bridget's  Church,  New  T&rk,  June  6«A,  1872.) 

My  Friends  ;  The  subject  on  which  I  have  the  honor  to 
address  you  this  evening  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  that 
can  occupy  your  attention  or  mine.  It  is  "  Christianity,  or  the 
Christian  Religion  as  reflected  in  the  National  character  of  the 
Irish  race  and  people."  I  say  this  subject  is  interesting,  for 
nothing  that  can  offer  itself  to  the  consideration  of  the  thought- 
ful mind,  or  to  the  philosopher,  can  possibly  be  more  interest- 
ing than  the  study  of  the  character  and  the  genius  of  a  people. 
It  is  the  grandest  question,  of  a  human  kind,  that  could  occupy 
the  attention  of  a  man.  The  whole  race  comes  under  a  mental 
review ;  the  history  of  that  race  is  to  be  ascertained ;  the  an- 
tecedents of  that  people  have  to  be  studied  in  order  to  ac- 
count for  the  national  character,  as  it  represents  itself  to-day 
amongst  the  nations  of  the  earth  I  Every  nation,  every  peo- 
ple under  Heaven  has  its  own  peculiar  national  character. 
The  nation ;  the  race  is  made  up  of  thousands  and  millions 
of  individual  men  and  women.  Whatever  the  individual  is, 
that  the  nation  is  found  to  be  in  the  aggregate.  Whatever 
influences  the  individual  was  subjected  to  in  forming  his 
character,  establishing  a  certain  tone  of  thought,  certain  sym- 
pathies, antipathies,  likings  or  dislikings :  whatever,  I  say, 
forms  the. individual  character  in  all  these  particulars,  the 
same  forms  the  nation  and  the  race ;  because  the  nation  is 
but  an  assemblage  of  individuals. 

Kow,  I  ask  you,  amongst  all  the  influences  that  can  be 
brought  to  bear  upon  the  individual  man,  to  form  his  char- 
acter ;  to  make  him  either  good  or  bad ;  to  give  tone  to  his 
thoughts ;  to  string  his  soul  and  to  tune  it ;  to  make  him  fly 
to  God ;  to  produce  all  this  which  is  called  character, — is  it 
not  perfectly  true  that  the  most  powerful  influence  of  all  is 
that  man's  religion  ?     It  is  not  so  much  his  education ;  for 


THE  IRISH  IN  RELATION  TO  CATHOLICITY.     203 

men  may  be  equally  educated, — one  just  as  well  as  the  other 
— yet  they  may  be  different  from  each  other  as  day  from 
night.  It  is  not  so  much  his  associations,  for  men  may  be 
in  the  same  walk  of  life,  men  may  be  surrounded  by  the 
same  circumstances  of  family,  of  antecedents,  of  wealth  or 
poverty,  as  the  case  may  be,  yet  may  be  as  different  as  day 
and  night.  But  when  religion  comes  in  and  fills  the  mind 
with  a  certain  knowledge,  fills  the  soul  with  certain  princi- 
ples; elevates  the  man  to  a  recognition  and  acknowledg- 
ment of  certain  truths;  imposes  upon  him  certain  truths, 
in  the  nature  of  the  most  sacred  of  all  obligations,  namely, 
the  obligation  of  eternal  salvation; — when  this  principle 
comes  in,  it  immediately  forms  the  man's  character,  deter- 
mines what  manner  of  man  he  shall  be,  gives  a  moral  tone 
to  the  man's  whole  life.  And  so  it  is  with  nations.  Amongst 
the  influences  that  form  a  nation's  character, — that  give  to 
a  people  the  stamp  of  their  national  and  original  individual- 
ity,— the  most  potent  of  all  is  the  nation's  religion.  If  that 
religion  be  gloomy ;  if  it  be  a  fatalistic  doctrine,  telling  every 
man  he  was  created  to  be  damned,  you  at  once  induce  upon 
the  people  or  the  nation  that  profess  it  a  hang-dog,  misera- 
ble, melancholy  feeling  that  makes  them  go  through  life  like 
some  of  our  New  England  Calvinists,  sniffling,  and  sighing, 
and  lifting  up  their  eyes,  telling  everybody  that  if  they  look 
crooked,  looking  either  to  the  right  or  to  the  left,  they 
will  go  to  hell.  You  know  the  propensity  of  some  people 
to  be  always  damning  one  another.  If,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  religion  be  bright ;  if  it  open  a  glimpse  of  Heaven,  found- 
ed upon  an  intellectual  principle ;  if  it  raises  up  a  man's 
hopes ;  if  it  tells  him,  in  all  his  adversities  and  his  misfor- 
tunes, to  look  up ;  if  it  gives  him  a  glimpse  that  the  God 
that  made  him  is  waiting  to  crown  him  with  glor}*^,  you  will 
have  a  bright,  cheerful,  brave,  and  courageous  people. 

Now,  such  a  religion  is  the  Christianity  that  Christ 
founded  upon  this  earth.  I  assert,  that,  if  that  religion  of 
Christ  be  a  true  religion, — as  we  know  it  to  be, — ^there 
is  not  upon  this  earth  a  race  whose  national  character  has 
been  so  thoroughly  moulded  and  formed  by  that  divine  relig- 
ion as  the  Irish  race,  to  which  I  belong.  It  is  easy,  my 
friends,  to  make  assertions :  it  is  not  so  easy  te  prove  them. 
I  am  not  come  here  to-night,  to  flatter  you,  or  to  make  crude 


204 


IRELAND  AND  THE  miSH. 


assertions ;  but  I  am  come  here  to  lay  down  the  principle 
which  is  just  enunciated,  and  to  prove  it. 

What  is  the  Christian  character  ?  What  character  does 
Christianity  form  in  a  man  ?  What  does  it  make  of  a  man  ? 
Men  are  bom  into  this  world  more  or  less  alike.  It  is  true 
that  the  Chinaman  has  no  bridge  to  his  nose,  and  that,  his 
eyes  turn  in,  both  occupied  watching  where  the  bridge  ought  to 
be ;  but  that  is  an  immaterial  thing.  Intellectually,  and  even 
morally,  all  men  are  mostly  bom  alike.  The  world  takes  them 
in  hand,  and  turns  out  a  man  of  a  certain  class, — a  man  equal  to 
its  own  requirements, — and  tries  to  make  him  everything  that 
the  world  wants  him  to  be.  God  also  takes  him  in  hand.  God 
makes  him  to  be  not  only  what  the  world  expects  of  him,  but 
also  what  God  and  Heaven  expect  of  him.  That  is  the  differ- 
ence between  the  two  classes  of  men;  the  man  whose 
character  is  mostly  worldly, — who  is  not  a  Christian, — and 
the  man  whose  character  is  formed  by  the  Divine  religion  of 
Christ.  What  does  the  world  expect  and  try  to  make  of  the 
child  ?  Well,  it  will  try  to  make  him  an  honest  man :  and 
this  is  a  good  thing ;  the  world  says,  it  is  **  the  noblest  work 
of  God."  Without  going  so  far  as  to  say  this,  I  say  that  an 
honest  man  is  very  nearly  the  noblest  work  of  God.  The 
man  who  is  equal  to  all  his  engagements ;  the  man  who  is 
not  a  thief  or  a  robber  (the  world  does  not  like  that)  ;  the 
man  who  is  commercially  honest  and  fair  in  his  dealings  with 
his  fellow-men ; — that  is  a  valuable  virtue.  The  world  ex- 
pects him  to  be  an  industrious  man ; — a  man  who  minds  his 
business,  and  tries,  as  we  say  in  Ireland,  "  to  make  a  penny  of 
money."  That  is  a  very  good  thing.  I  hope  you  will  all  attend 
to  it.  I  will  be  gladdened  and  delighted, — if  ever  I  should 
come  to  America  again,  I  will  be  overjoyed, — to  hear,  if  any 
one  comes  to  me  and  says  in  truth, — "  Why,  Father  Burke, 
all  these  Irishmen  you  saw  in  New  York,  when  you  were 
here  before,  have  become  wealthy,  and  are  at  the  top  of  the 
wheel."  Nothing  could  give  me  more  cheer.  The  world  ex- 
pects a  man  to  be  industrious  and  temperate  ;  because  if  a 
man  is  not  industrious,  is  not  temperate,  he  never  goes 
ahead :  he  does  no  good  for  his  God,  his  country,  or  any- 
body. Therefore,  this  is  also  a  good  thing.  But,  when  the 
world  has  made  a  truth-telling  man,  an  honest  man,  an  in- 
dustrious and  a  temperate  man,  the  world  is  satisfied.  The 
world  says:  "I  have  done  enough;   that  is  all  I  want. 


»» 


THE  JORISH  IN  RELATION  TO  CATHOLICITY,     205 

The  man  makes  a  fortune ;  the  man  establishes  a  name ;  and  the 
world  and  society  around  him  at  once  offer  him  the  incense  of 
their  praise.  They  say — "  There  was  a  splendid  man.  He 
left  his  mark  upon  society."  And  they  come  together  and 
initiate  a  subscription  to  erect  a  statue  for  him  in  the  Cen- 
tral Park.  But  they  have  not  made  a  Christian.  All  those 
are  human  virtues, — excellent  and  necessary.  Do  not  im- 
agine that  I  want  to  say  a  word  t^ainst  iJiem.  They  are 
necessary  virtues.  No  man  can  be  a  true  Christian  unless 
he  have  them.  But  the  Christian  has  a  great  deal  more. 
He  is  perfectly  distinctive  in  his  character  from  the  honest, 
truth-telling,  thrifty  and  temperate  man  that  the  world 
makes.  The  Christian  character  is  founded  upon  all  these 
human  virtues,  for  it  supposes  them  all :  and  then,  when  it 
has  laid  the  foundation  of  all  this — the  foundation  of  nature, 
— ^it  follows  it  up  with  the  magnificent  super-edifice  of  grace ; 
and  the  Christian  character  is  formed  in  man  by  the  three 
virtues — ^faith,  hope,  and  love.  Therefore,  St.  Paul,  speak- 
ing to  the  early  Christians,  said  to  them,  "  Now,  my  Mends 
and  brethren,  you  are  honest,  you  are  sober,  you  are  indus- 
trious; you  have  all  these  virtues,  and  I  praise  you  for 
them.  But  I  tell  you  now  there  remain  unto  you  fEiith, 
hope,  and  charity — these  three."  For  these  three  are  the  form- 
ation of  the  Christian  character.  Let  us  examine  what 
these  three  virtues  mean.  First  of  all,  my  Mends,  these 
three  virtues  are  distinguished  from  all  the  human  virtues  in 
this :  that  the  human  virtues — ^honesty,  sobriety,  temperance, 
truthfulness,  fidelity,  and  so  on — establish  a  man  in  his 
proper  relations  to  his  fellow-men  and  to  himsel£  They 
have  nothing  to  say  of  God  directly  nor  indirectly.  If  I  am 
an  honest  man  it  means  that  I  pay  my  debts.  To  whom  do 
I  pay  these  debts  ?  To  the  people  to  whom  I  owe  money, 
to  my  butcher,  my  baker,  my  tailor,  etc. ;  I  meet  their  bills 
and  pay  them.  I  owe  no  man  an3rthing ;  and  people  say  I 
am  an  honest  man :  that  means  that  I  have  done  my  duty 
to  my  fellow-men.  It  is  no  direct  homage  to  Grod.  It  is 
only  homage  to  Grod  when  that  truth  springs  from  the  super- 
natural and  divine  motive  of  faith.  If  I  am  ^  temperate 
man,  it  means,  especially  to  the  Irishman,  that  I  am  a  loving 
father,  a  good  husband,  a  good  son.  An  Irishman  is  all  this 
as  long  as  he  is  temperate ;  but  remember  that  the  wife,  the 
child,  the  £Etther  and  the  mother  are  not  God.     Temperance 


206  IRELAND  AND  THE  HUSK 

makes  him  all  right  in  relation  to  himself  and  his  family 
around  him.  If  I  am  a  truth-telling  man,  the  meaning  is  I 
am  "  on  the  square,"  as  they  say,  with  my  neighbors ;  but 
my  neighbors  are  not  God.  But  the  moment  I  am  actuated 
by  faith,  hope,  and  charity,  that  moment  I  am  elevated  to- 
wards God.  My  faith  tells  me  there  is  a  God.  If  that  God 
has  spoken  to  me,  that  God  has  told  me  things  which  I  can- 
not understand,  and  yet  I  am  bound  to  believe.  Faith  is 
the  virtue  that  realizes  Almighty  God  and  all  the  things  of 
God  as  they  are  known  by  Divine  revelation. 

There  are  two  worlds — the  visible  and  the  invisible ;  the 
world  that  we  see  and  the  world  we  do  not  see.  The.  world 
that  we  see  is  our  native  country,  o\^r  families,  our  friends, 
our  churches,  our  Sunday  for  amusement,  our  pleasant  even- 
ings, and  so  on.  All  these  things  make  up  the  visible  world 
that  we  see.  But  there  is  another  world  that  "  eye  hath  not 
seen,  ear  hath  not  heard,  nor  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart 
of  man  to  conceive,"  and  that  world  is  the  world  revealed  to 
us  by  faith.  It  is  far  more  real,  far  more  lasting,  far  more 
substantial  than  the  visible  world.  We  say  in  the  Creed,^  **  I 
believe  in  God,  the  Father  Almighty,  Creator  of  all  things 
visible  and  invisible."  Now,  in  that  invisible  world,  first  of  all, 
is  the  God  that  created  and  redeemed  us.  We  have  not  seen 
Him,  yet  we  know  that  He  exists.  In  that  invisible  world 
are  the  angels  and  saints.  We  have  not  seen  them,  yet  we 
know  they  exist.  In  that  invisible  world  are  aU  the  friends 
that  we  loved,  who  have  been  taken  from  us  by  the  hand  of 
death ;  those  the  very  sound  of  whose  name  brings  the  tear 
to  our  eyes  and  the  prayer  of  supplication  to  our  lips.  We 
see  them  no  longer ;  but  we  know  that  they  still  live  in  that 
invisible  world  that  "  eye  hath  not  seen."  Now,  the  virtue 
of  faith  in  the  Christian  character  is  the  power  that  God 
gives  by  Divine  grace  to  a  man  to  realize  that  invisible 
world,  to  realize  it  so  that  he  makes  it  more  substantial  to 
him  than  the  world  around  him ;  that  he  realizes  more  about 
it,  and  is  more  interested  in  it,  and  almost  knows  more  about 
it,  than  the  world  around  him.  The  virtue  of  faith  is  that 
power  of  God  by  which  a  man  is  enabled  to  realize  the  invis- 
ible ;  for  the  object  of  faith  is  invisible.  Our  Lord  says  to 
Thomas,  the  Apostle, "  Because  thou  hast  seen  thou  believest ; 
blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen  and  have  believed." 

This  is  the  first  feature  of  the  Christian  character,— >the 


THm  imSR  m  RELATION  TO  CATHOLIOITT.     207 

power  of  realizing  the  unseen,  the  power  of  knowing  it,  the 
power  of  feeling  it,  the  power  of  substantiating  it  to  the  soul 
and  to  the  mind ;  untU,  out  of  that  substantiation  of  the 
invisible,  comes  the  engrossing,  ardent  desire  to  make  that 
invisible  surround  him  by  its  influence  in  this  life,  in  order 
that  he  may  possess  it  in  the  eternal  life  that  is  to  come. 
This  is  faith.  Consequently  the  man  of  faith,  in  addition 
to  being  honest,  industrious,  temperate,  truthful,  and  having 
all  these  human  virtues,  is  a  firm  believer.  It  costs  him  no 
effort  to  believe  in  that  mystery  because  he  cannot  compre- 
hend it — because  he  has  never  seen  it.  He  knows  it  is  true 
— ^he  admits  that  truth ;  he  stakes  his  own  life  upon  the 
issue  of  that  divine  truth  which  he  has  apprehended  by  the 
act  of  the  intelligence  and  not  by  the  senses. 

The  next  great  feature  of  the  Christian  character  is  the 
virtue  of  hope.  The  Christian  man  is  confident  in  his  hope. 
God  has  made  certain  promises.  God  has  said  that  neither 
in  this  world  nor  in  the  world  to  come  will  he  abandon  the 
just  man.  He  may  try  him  with  poverty ;  He  may  try  him 
with  sickness ;  He  may  demand  whatever  sacrifice  he  will ; 
but  he  never  will  abandon  him.  Thus  saith  the  Lord. 
Now,  the  virtue  of  hope  is  that  which  enables  the  Christian 
man  to  rest  with  perfect  security — with  unfailing,  undying 
confidence  in  every  promise  of  God,  as  long  as  the  man  him- 
self fulfils  the  conditions  of  these  promises.  The  consequence 
is  that  the  Christian  man,  by  virtue  of  this  hope  that  is  in 
him,  is  lifted  up  beyond  all  the  miseries  and  sorrows  of  this 
world,  and  he  looks  upon  them  all  in  their  true  light.  If 
poverty  comes  upon  him  he  remembers  the  poverty  of  Jesus 
Christ ;  and  he  says  in  his  hope :  "  Well,  the  Lord  passed 
through  the  ways  of  poverty  into  the  rest  of  His  glory ;  so 
shall  I  rest  as  He  did.  I  hope  for  it."  If  sickness  or  sor- 
row come  upon  him,  he  looks  upon  the  trials  and  sorrows  of 
his  Lord,  and  unites  his  own  sorrows  to  those  of  the  Son  of 
G^d.  If  difficulties  rise  in  his  path  he  never  despairs  in 
himself,  for  he  has  the  promise  of  God  that  these  difficulties 
are  only  trials  sent  by  God,  and  that,  sooner  or  later,  he  will 
triumph  over  them — perhaps  in  time,  but  certainly  in 
eternity. 

Finally,  the  third  great  feature  of  the  Christian  character  is 
the  virtue  of  love.  It  is  the  active  virtue  that  is  in  a  man,  forc- 
ing him  to  love  his  God ;  to  be  futhful  to  his  G^d ;  to  love 


208  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

his  religion ;  to  be  faithful  to  that  religion  ;  to  love  his 
neighbor  as  he  loves  himself ;  especially  to  love  those  who 
have  the  first  claim  upon  him ;  the  father  and  mother  that 
bore  him,  to  whom  he  is  bound  to  give  honor  as  well  as 
love ; — then  the  wife  of  his  bosom,  and  the  children  that 
God  has  given  him,  to  whom  he  is  bound  to  give  support 
and  sustenance  as  well  as  love :  his  very  enemies ; — he  must 
have  no  enemy — no  personal  desire  for  revenge  at  all ; — ^but 
if  there  be  a  good  cause,  he  must  defend  that  cause,  even 
though  he  smite  his  enemy — the  enemy  not  of  him  person- 
ally, but  of  his  cause  :  bftt  always  be  ready  to  show  mercy 
and  to  exhibit  love,  even  to  his  enemies.  This  is  the  Chris- 
tian man.  How  different  from  the  mere  man  of  the  world ! 
The  Christian  man's  faith  acknowledges  the  claims  of  God ; 
his  hope  strains  after  God ;  his  love  lays  hold  of  God ;  he 
makes  God  his  own. 

Now,  my  friends,  this  being  the  Christian  character,  I  ask 
you  to  consider  the  second  part  of  my  proposition,  namely, 
that  the  Irish  people  have  received  especial  grace  from  God ; 
that  no  people  upon  the  face  of  the  earth  have  been  so 
thoroughly  formed  into  their  national  character  as  the  Irish, 
by  the  divine  principles  of  the  Holy  Catholic  religion  of 
Jesus  Christ. 

How  are  we  to  know  the  national  character  ?  Well,  my 
friends,  we  have  two  great  clues  or  means  of  knowing. 
First  of  all,  we  have  the  past  history  of  our  race,  and  the 
tale  that  it  tells  us.  Secondly,,  we  have  our  observation  of 
the  men  of  to-day, — wherever  the  Irish  exist,  wherever  they 
assemble  together  and  form  society, — and  the  tale  that  that 
society  tells  us  to-day 

Let  us  first  consider  briefly  the  past  of  our  nation,  of  our 
race,  and  then  we  will  consider  the  Irishman  of  to-day.  Let 
us  consider  the  past  of  our  history  as  a  race,  as  a  nation ; 
the  history  of  faith,  hope,  and  love  for  God?  Is  it  pre- 
eminently such  a  history  ?  Is  it  such  a  history  of  Chris- 
tianity, faith,  hope,  and  love  that  no  other  nation  on 
the  face  of  the  earth  can  equal  it  ?  If  so,  I  have  proved  my 
proposition.  Now,  exactly  one  thousand  and  sixty  years 
before  America  was  discovered  by  Columbus,  Patrick,  the 
Apostle,  landed  in  Ireland.  The  nation  to  which  he  came 
was  a  most  ancient  race;  derived  from  one  of  the  pri- 
maeval rac€3  that  peopled  the  earth, — from  the  ^eat  Phoe- 


THE  IRISH  IN  RELATION  TO  CATHOLICITY,     209 

nician  family  of  the  East.  They  landed,  in  the  remote 
mists  of  pre-historic  times,  upon  a  green  isle  in  the  Western 
ocean.  They  peopled  it ;  they  colonized  it ;  they  estab- 
lished laws;  they  opened  schools;  they  had  their  philoso- 
phy, their  learning;  their  science  and  art,  equal  to  that 
of  any  other  civilization  of  the  day.  They  were  a  jteople 
well  known  in  their  Pagan  days  to  the  ancient  Egyptians 
and  the  ancient  Greeks.  The  name  of  the  island, — the 
name  by  which  we  call  it  to-day, — Erin,  was  only  a  name 
that  came  after  the  more  ancient  n^^e.  For,  by  the  Greeks 
and  the  people  of  old,  hundreds  of  years  before  the  birth  of 
Christj  our  Ireland  was  called  by  the  name  of  Ogygia  or 
**  the  most  ancient  land."  It  was  spoken  of  by  the  most 
remote  authors  of  antiquity ;  the  most  ancient  Greek  wri- 
ters, and  other  authors  now  extant  spoke  of  Ireland  as  the 
island  in  the  far  distant  ocean ;  spoke  of  it  as  a  place  of 
wonderful  beauty,  as  a  place  of  ineffable  charms  ;  spoke  of 
it  as  something  like  that  high  Elysium  of  the  poet's  dream, 
an  island  rising  out  of  the  sea,  the  fairest  and  most  beautiful 
of  all  the  sea's  productions. 

We  know  that  our  ancestors,  at  a  most  remote  period,  re- 
ceived another  colony  from  Spain.  We  know  that  the 
Milesians  landed  on  an  island  they  called  Innisfail,  their 
"  Isle  of  Destiny."  We  know  that  they  came  from  the  fair, 
Southern,  sunny  land,  bringing  with  them  high  valor,  mighty 
hope,  generous  aspirations,  and  an  advanced  degree  of  civili- 
zation. And  the  original  inhabitants  of  Ireland  intermin- 
gled their  race  with  the  Milesians.  In  that  intermingling 
was  formed  the  Celtic  constitution  which  divided  Ireland 
into  four  kingdoms,  all  united  under  a  high  monarch  and 
universal  king  (the  "  Ard-righ  "),  the  High  King  of  Ireland. 
The  palace  of  Ireland's  king,  as  fitting,  was  built  almost  in 
the  centre  of  the  island,  two  miles  from  the  fatal  Boyne. 
The  traveUer  comes  through  a  beautiful  undulating  land  to- 
wards the  hill-top,  rich  in  verdure,  abundant  and  fruitful, 
crowned  with  lovely  woods  on  every  side.  It  is  the  plain  of 
"  royal  Meath."  He  arrives  at  .the  foot  of  the  hill.  The 
summit  of  that  hill,  for  centuries,  was  crowned  with  the 
palace  of  Ireland's  kings.  It  was  called,  in  the  language  of 
the  people,  "  Tara  " — the  place  of  the  kings.  There,  on  Easter 
Sunday  morning,  in  the  year  432,  early  in  the  fifth  century  of 
the  Christian  era,  a  most  singular  sight  presented  itself.    Ire- 


210  IRELAND  AJn>  THE  IRISH. 

land^s  monarch  sat  upon  his  throne,  in  high  council.  Around 
him  were  the  sovereign  kings  and  chieftains  of  the  nation ; 
around  him,  again,  in  their  ranks,  were  the  Pagan  priests, — 
the  Druids  of  the  old  fire-worship ;  around  him  again,  on 
either  side,  on  thrones,  as  if  they  were  monarchs,  sat  the 
magnificent  ancient  minstrels  of  Ireland,  with  snow-white, 
flowing  beards, — their  hai'ps  upon  their  knees, — filling  the 
air  with  the  glorious  melody  of  Ireland's  music,  while  they 
poured  out,  upon  the  wings  of  song,  the  time-honored  story 
of  Ireland's  heroes  and  their  glorious  kings.  Suddenly  a 
shadow  fell  upon  the  threshold.  A  man  appeared,  with  mi- 
tre on  head,  cope  on  shoulders,  and  a  crozier  in  his  hand, 
with  the  cross  of  Christ  upon  it.  And  this  was  Patrick, 
who  came  from  Rome,  to  preach  Christianity  to  the  Irish 
kings,  chieftains,  and  people.  They  received  him  as  became 
a  civilized  and  enlightened  people.  They  did  not  stand,  like 
other  nations,  in  a  wild  hubbub  of  barbarism,  to  denounce 
the  truth,  as  soon  as  they  heard  it,  and  to  put  the  truth-tel- 
ler and  the  messenger  to  death  ;  but  they  sat  down, — these 
kings,  these  minstrels,  these  judges  of  the  land, — these  most 
learned  philosophers; — they  disputed  with  Patrick;  they 
brought  the  keen  weapons  of  human  wisdom  and  of  human 
intellect  to  bear  against  that  sword  which  he  wielded.  Oh! 
it  was  the  sword  of  the  Spirit, — the  Word  of  God — the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  And  when,  at  length,  that  king  and 
those  chieftains, — all  these  Druids  and  bards, —^found  that 
Patrick  preached  a  reasonable  religion ;  that  Patrick  tried  to 
prove  his  religion,  and  brought  conviction  unto  their  minds ; 
up  rose  the  head  of  all  the  bards,  and  of  Ireland's  minstrels, — 
the  man  next  in  authority  to  the  king, — the  venerable  Dub- 
hac,  the  Arch- minstrel  of  the  royal  monarch  of  Tara ; — up 
rose  this  man,  in  the  might  of  his  intellect,  in  the  glory  of 
his  voice  and  his  presence ;  and,  lifting  up  his  harp  in  his 
hand,  he  said,  "  Hear  me,  O  Ard-righ  and  chieftains  of  the 
land  I  I  now  declare  that  this  man,  who  comes  to  us,  speaks 
from  God  : — that  he  brings  a  message  from  God.  I  bow  be- 
fore Patrick's  God.  He  is  the  true  God ;  and  as  long  as  I 
live  this  harp  of  mine  shall  never  sound  again  save  to  the 
praises  of  Christianity  and  its  God."  And  the  king  and 
chieftains  and  bards  and  warriors  and  judges  and  people 
alike  rose  promptly ;  and  never  in  the  iiistory  of  the  world, 
— never  was  there  a  people  that  so  readily  embraced  the 


THE  IRISH  IN  RELATION  TO  CATHOLICITY.     211 

light  and  took  it  into  their  minds,  took  into  their  hearts, 
and  put  into  their  blood  the  light  of  Christianity  and  its 
grace,  as  Ireland  did  in  the  day  of  her  conversion.  She 
did  not  ask  her  Apostle  to  shed  one  tear  of  sorrow.  She 
rose  up,  put  her  hands  in  his,  like  a  friend,  took  the  mes- 
sage from  his  lips,  surrounded  him  with  honor  and  the  pop- 
ular veneration  of  all  the  people :  and  before  he  died,  he 
received  the  singular  grace, — distinct  from  all  other  Saints, 
— that  he  alone,  among  all  the  other  Apostles  that  ever 
preached  the  Gospel,  found  a  people  entirely  Pagan  and  left 
them  entirely  Christian. 

And  now  began  that  wonderful  agency  of  Christian  faith, 
Christian  hope,  and  Christian  love,  which  I  claim  to  have 
formed  the  national  character  of  my  race  as  revealed  in  their 
history.  They  took  the  faith  from  Patrick ;  they  rose  at 
once  into  the  full  perfection  of  that  divine  faith.  They  be- 
came a  nations  of  priests,  bishops,  monks,  and  nuns,  in  the 
very  day  of  the  first  dawning  of  their  Christianity.  The 
very  men  whom  Patrick  ordained  priests,  and  whom  he  con- 
secrated bishops,  were  the  men  whom  he  found  pagans  in 
the  land  to  which  he  preached  Christianity.  The  very  women 
whom  he  consecrated  to  the  divine  service, — putting  veils 
upon  their  heads, — the  very  women  that  rose  at  once  under 
his  hand  to  be  the  light  and  ^ory  of  Ireland, — as  Ireland's 
womanhood  has  been  from  that  day  to  this, — were  the  maid- 
ens and  mothers  of  the  Irish  race^  who  first  heard  the  name 
of  Christ  from  the  lips  of  St.  Patrick. 

Well,  I  need  not  tell  you  the  thrice-told  tale,  how  the 
epochs  of  our  national  history  seem  to  run  in  cycles  of  three 
hundred  years.  For  three  hundred  years  after  Patrick 
preached  the  Gospel,  Ireland  was  the  holiest,  most  learned, 
most  enlightened,  most  glorious  country  in  Christendom. 
From  all  the  ends  of  the  earth,  students  came  to  study  in 
those  Irish  schools ;  they  came  not  by  thousands,  but  by 
tens  of  thousands.  They  brought  back  to  every  nation  in 
Europe  the  wondrous  tale  of  Ireland's  sanctity,  of  Ireland's 
glory,  of  Ireland's  peace,  of  Ireland's  melody,  of  the  holi- 
ness of  her  people  and  the  devotion  of  her  priesthood,  the 
immaculate  purity  and  wonderful  beauty  of  the  womanhood 
of  Ireland. 

After  these  three  hundred  years  had  passed  away,  began 
the  first  great  effort  which  proved  that  Catholic  fkith  was 


212  IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRISH, 

the  true  essence  of  the  Irish  character.  The  Danes  invaded 
Ireland,  and  for  three  hundred  long  years,  every  year  saw 
fresh  arrivals :  fresh  armies  poured  in  upon  the  land ;  and 
for  three  hundred  years  Ireland  was  challenged  to  fight  in 
defence  of  her  faith,  and  to  prove  to  the  world,  that,  until 
the  Irish  race  and  the  Irish  character  were  utterly  de- 
stroyed, the  Catholic  faith  never  would  cease  to  exist  in  the 
land.  The  nation — for,  thank  God,  in  that  day  we  were  a 
nation ! — the  nation  drew  the  national  sword.  Brightly  it 
flashed  from  that  scabbard  where  it  had  rested  for  three 
hundred  years,  in  Christian  peace  and  holiness.  JBrightly 
did  it  flash  from  that  scabbard  in  the  day  that  the  Dane 
landed  in  Ireland,  and  the  Celt  crossed  swords  with  him  for 
country,  for  fatherland,  and,  much  more,  for  the  altar,  for 
religion,  and  for  God.  The  fight  went  on.  Every  valley  in 
the  land  tells  its  tale.  There  are  many  amongst  us,  who,  like 
myself,  have  been  bom  and  educated  in  the  old  country. 
What  is  more  common,  my  friends,  than  to  see  what  is 
called  the  old  "  rath,"  or  mound  ;  sometimes  in  the  middle 
of  the  field,  sometimes  on  the  borders  of  a  bog,  sometimes 
on  the  hill-side,  to  see  a  great  mound  raised  up.  The  peo- 
ple will  tell  you  that  is  a  "  rath ; "  and  Ireland  is  full  of 
them.  Do  you  know  what  that  means  ?  When  the  day  of 
the  battle  was  over,  when  the  Danes  were  conquered,  and 
their  bodies  were  strewn  in  thousands  on  the  field,  the  Irish 
gathered  them  together  and  made  a  big  hole  into*which  they 
put  them  and  heaped  them  up  into  a  great  mound,  covered 
them  with  earth,  and  dug  scraws  or  sods,  and  covered  them. 
In  every  quarter  of  the  land  are  they  found.  What  do  they 
tell?  They  tell  this,  that  until  the  day  of  judgment,  until 
when  all  the  sons  of  men  shall  be  in  the  Yalley  of  Jehoso- 
phat,  no  man  will  be  able  to  tell  of  the  thousands  and  the 
tens  of  thousands  and  the  hundreds  of  thousands  of  Danish 
invaders  that  came  to  Ireland  Only  to  find  a  place  in  the 
grave, — only  to  find  a  grave.  Ah,  gracious  God  I  that  we 
could  say  the  same  of  every  invader  that  ever  polluted  the 
virgin  soil  of  Erin  !  Well  did  Brian  Boroimhe  know  how 
many  inches  of  Irish  land  it  took  to  make  a  grave  for  a 
Dane.  Well  did  the  heroic  king  of  Meath — perhaps  a 
greater  character  than  even  Brian  himself,  or  O'Neil,— - 
Malachi,  the  Second,  of  whom  the  poet  says, — ho 
"  Wore  the  collar  of  gold, 
Which  he  won  from  the  proud  invader ;  '* 


THE  IRISH  IN  RELATION  TO  CATHOLICITT.     213 

— a  man  who  with  his  own  hand  slew  three  of  the  kings  and 
leaders  and  warriors  of  the  Danish  army; — well  did  he  know 
how  many  inches  of  Irish  soil  it  took  to  bury  a  Dane.  For, 
in  the  Valley  of  Glenamada,  in  Wicklow,  on  a  June  morn- 
ing, he  found  them  ;  and  he  poured  down  from  the  hill-tops 
with  his  Gaelic  and  Celtic  army  upon  them.  Before  the  sun 
set  over  the  Western  Ocean  to  America  (then  undiscovered), 
there  were  six  thousand  Danes  stretched  dead  in  the  valley. 
Well,  my  friends,  three  hundred  years  of  war  passed 
away.  Do  you  know  what  it  means  ?  Can  you  realize  it 
to  yourselves?  There  is  no  nation  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth  that  has  not  been  ruined  by  war.  You  had  only  four 
years  of  war  here  in  America  and  you  know  how  much  evil 
it  did.  Just  fancy  three  hundred  years  of  war !  War  in 
every  county,  every  province,  every  valley  of  the  land! 
war  everywhere  for  three  hundred  years !  The  Irishman 
had  to  sleep  with  a  drawn  sword  under  his  pillow,  the  hilt 
ready  to  his  hand,  and  prepared  to  spring  up  at  a  moment's 
warning,  for  the  honor  of  his  wife,  for  the  honor  of  his 
daughter,  and  the  peace  of  his  household  and  the  sacred 
altar  of  Christ.  And,  yet,  at  the  end  of  three  hundred 
years,  two  things  survived.  Ireland's  Catholic  iaiih.  was  as 
fresh  as  it  ever  was  ;  and  Ireland's  music,  her  minstrelsy, — 
was  as  luxuriant  and  flourishing  in  the  land  as  if  the  whole 
time  had  been  a  time  of  peace.  How  grand  a  type  of  the 
faith  and  genius  of  our  people ! — how  magnificent  a  type  of 
the  Irish  character  is  he, — a  man  of  eighty-three  years  of 
age,  mounted  on  his  noble  horse,  clad  in  his  grand  armor, 
with  a  battle-axe  in  one  uplifted  hand,  and  the  crucifix  in 
the  other, — the  heroic  figure  of  Brian  Boroimhe,  as  he 
comes  out  on  the  pages  of  Irish  history,  and  stands  before 
us;  animating  his  Irish  army  at  Clontarf;  telling  who  it 
was  that  died  for  them,  and  who  it  was  they  were  to  fight 
for !  Before  the  evening  sun  set,  Ireland — like  the  man  who 
shakes  a  reptile  ofi"  his  hand,— shook  from  her  Christian 
bosom  the  Danish  army  into  the  sea,  and  destroyed  them. 
Yet  Brian,  the  immortal  monarch  and  ^ing  of  Ireland,  was 
as  skilled  with  the  harp  as  he  was  with  the  battle-axe ;  and 
in  the  rush  and  heat  of  the  battle,  no  man  stood  before  him 
and  lived.  In  the  halls  of  Kincora,  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Shannon,  when  all  the  minstrels  of  Ireland  gathered  to- 
gether to  discuss  the  ancient  melodies  of  the  land,  there  was 


214  IRELANI)  AND  TEE  IBISE. 

no  hand  amongst  them  that  could  biing  out  the  thrill  of  the 
gold  or  silver  chords  with  such  skill  as  the  aged  hand  of  the 
man  who  was  so  terrible  on  the  battle-field.  A  Christian 
warrior  and  minstrel, — the  very  type  of  the  Irish  character 
was  that  man,  that,  after  three  hundred  years  of  incessant 
war,  led  the  Irish  forces  upon  the  field  of  Clontarf,  from 
which  they  swept  the  Danes  into  the  sea. 

Then  came  another  three  hundred  years  of  invasion,  and  Ire- 
land again  fights  for  her  nationality — until  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, just  three  hundred  years  ago  \ — and  then  she  was  told 
that,  after  fighting  for  nearly  four  hundred  years  for  her 
nationality,  she  must  begin  and  fight  again,  not  only  for 
that,  but  for  her  altar  and  her  ancient  faith.  The  Danes 
came  to  Ireland  with  the  cry,  "  Down  with  the  Cross — down 
with  the  altar !  "  Henry  the  Eighth  came  to  Ireland  with 
the  same  cry  ;  but,  despite  them  all,  the  Cross  and  the  altar 
are  up  to-day  in  Ireland. 

Three  hundred  long  years  of  incessant  war,  with  four 
hundred  years  before  of  incessant  war,  making  the  Irish 
people  a  thousand  years  engaged  in  actual  warfare, — seven 
hundred  years  with  the  Saxon  and  three  hundred  years  be- 
fore that  with  the  Danes !  Where  is  the  nation  upon  the 
face  of  the  earth  that  has  fought  for  a  thousand*  years  ? 
Why,  one  would  imagine  that  they  would  all  be  swept  away ! 
How,  in  the  world,  did  they  stand  it?  We  have  been 
fighting  a  thousand  years ; — the  battle  begun  by  our  fore- 
fathers has  been  continued  down, — well,  down  to  the  year 
before  last.  The  sword  of  Ireland,  that  was  drawn  a  thou- 
sand years  ago,  at  the  beginning  of  the  ninth  century,  still 
remains  out  of  the  scabbard,  and  has  not  been  sheathed  down 
to  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Did  anybody  ever 
hear  the  like.  And  yet,  here  we  are,  glory  be  to  God !  — 
here  we  are  as  fresh  and  hearty  as  Brian  Boroimhe  on  the 
morning  of  Clontarf,  or  as  Hugh  O'Neil  was  at  the  Yellow 
Ford ;  or  as  Owen  Roe  O'Neil  was  on  the  field  of  Benburb, 
or  as  Patrick  Sarsfield  was  in  the  trenches  of  Limerick,  or 
as  Robert  Emmett  was  in  the  dock  in  Green  street. 

Now,  my  friends,  let  me  ask  you, — for  what  did  the  Irish 
fight  six  hundred  years?  For  three  hundred  years  they 
fought  with  the  Dane ;  for  three  hundred  years  they  fought 
with  England.  The  Danes  invaded  and  desolated  the  whole 
land;  the  English,  three  times,  since  Henry  the  Eighth's 


THE  IRISH  IN  RELATION  TO  CATHOLICITY.     215 

reign, — taking  it  down  to  the  present, — landed  in  Ireland 
and  spread  destruction  and  desolation  upon  it.  This  Irish 
people  fought  for  six  hundred  years ;  what  did  they  fight  for  ? 
They  fought  for  six  hundred  years  for  something  they  had 
never  seen.  They  never  saw  Christ,  in  the  blessed  Eucharist, 
because  He  was  hidden  from  them  under  the  sacramental 
veils  of  bread  and  wine.  They  never  saw  the  Mother  of 
the  God  of  Heaven ;  they  never  saw  the  Saints  and  Angels 
of  Heaven ;  they  never  saw  the  Saviour  upon  the  Cross : 
and  yet,  for  that  Christ  on  the  Cross,  for  the  Saviour  in  the 
Tabernacle,  and  for  the  Mother  of  Purity  in  Heaven,  and 
the  Angels  and  Saints,  they  fought  these  six  hundred  years. 
They  shed  their  blood  until  every  acre  of  land  in  Ireland 
was  red  with  the  blood  of  the  Irishman,  that  was  shed  for 
his  religion  and  for  his  God.  What  does  this  prove  ?  Does 
it  not  prove  that,  beyond  all  other  races  and  nations,  the 
Irish  character  was  able  to  realize  the  Unseen  and  so  to  sub- 
stantiate the  things  of  faith  as  to  make  them  of  far  greater 
importance  than  liberty,  than  property,  than  land,  than  ed- 
ucation, than  life  ?  J'or,  any  man  who  goes  out  and  says, 
"  I  am  ready  to  give  up  every  inch  of  land  I  possess  ;  I  am 
ready  to  go  into  exile ;  I  am  ready  to  be  sold  as  a  slave  in 
Barbadoes ;  I  am  ready  to  be  trampled  under  foot  or  to  die 
for  Christ,  who  is  present  now,  though  I  never  saw  Him ; " 
— that  man  is  pre-eminently  a  man  of  faith.  The  Irish  na- 
tion for  six  hundred  years  answered  the  Saxon  and  the  Dane 
thus :  "  We  will  fight  until  we  die  for  our  God  who  is  upon 
our  altars."  Now,  I  ask  you  to  find  amongst  the  nations  of 
the  earth,  any  one  nation  that  was  ever  asked  to  suffer  con- 
fiscation and  robbery  and  exile  and  death  for  their  faith,  and 
who  did  it  like  one  man,  for  six  hundred  years  ?  When  you 
have  found  that  nation,  when  you  are  able  to  say  to  me — 
such  a  people  did  that,  and  such  another  people  did  that, 
and  to  prove  it  to  me,  I  will  give  up  what  I  have  said, — 
namely,  that  the  Irish  are  the  most  constant  in  character  and 
in  their  faith  of  any  people  in  the  world.  As  soon  as  you 
are  able  to  prove  to  me  that  any  other  people  ever  stood  so 
much  for  their  faith,  I  stand  corrected :  but  until  you  prove 
it,  I  hold  that  the  Irish  people  and  race  are  the  most  Catho- 
lic on  the  face  of  the  earth.         ** 

Now,  my  friends,  If  I  want  any  proof  of  the  Irish  faculty 
of  realizing  the  Unseen,  why,  my  goodness,  we  are  always  at 


216 


IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 


f 


it  I  The  Irish  child,  as  soon  as  he  arrives  at  the  age  of  rea- 
son, has  an  innate  faculty  of  realizing  the  Unseen.  When 
he  comes  out  at  the  back  door  and  looks  inibo  the  field,  he 
imagines  he  sees  a  fairy  in  every  bush.  If  he  sees  a  butter- 
fly upon  a  stalk  in  the  field,  he  thinks  it  is  a  "  Leprechaumy 
I  remember,  when  a  boy  growing  up,  studying  Latin,  having 
made  up  my  mind  to  be  a  priest ; — I  was  a  grown  lad ;  and 
yet  there  was  a  certain  old  archway  in  Bowling  Green,  in 
Galway,  to  which  there  was  attached  a  tradition ;  I  know 
there  are  some  here  who  will  remember  it.  It  was  near  the 
place  where  Lynch,  the  Mayor,  hanged  his  son,  hundreds  of 
years  ago  ;  near  the  Protestant  churchyard  ;  and  that  gave 
it  a  bad  name.  At  any  rate,  grown  as  I  was,  learning  Latin, 
knowing  everything  about*  the  catechism,  and  having  made 
up  my  mind  to  be  a  priest, — I  was  never  able  to  pass  under 
that  arch,  after  nightfall,  without  running  for  dear  life.  This 
faith,  if  you  will, — this  Irish  superstition  is  a  faith.  Re- 
member that,  wherever  superstition — especially  of  a  spiritual 
character, — exists,  there  is  proof  that  there  is  a  character 
f  jrmed  to  realize  the  Unseen. 

Now,  my  friends,  consider  the  next  grand  impress  of  the 
Christian  character  stamped  upon  the  Irish  people.  The 
Apostle  says :  "  We  are  saved  by  hope."  The  principle  of 
hope  imposes  confidence  in  the  divine  promises  of  Grod,  in 
the  certainty  of  their  fulfilment,  a  confidence  never  shaken, 
that  never  loses  itself,  that  never  loosens  its  hold  upon  Grod, 
that  never,  for  an  instant,  yields  to  depression  or  despair. 
I  ask  you  if  that  virtue  is  found  stamped  upon  our  Irish 
character  ?  Tell  me  first  of  all,  as  I  wish  to  prove  it,  during 
this  thousand  years  of  Ireland's  warfai-e,  was  there  ever  a 
day  in  the  history  of  our  nation  when  Ireland  lost  courage 
and  struck  her  flag  ?  That  flag  was  never  pulled  down :  it 
has  been  defeated  on  many  a  field ;  it  has  been  dragged  in 
the  dust,  stained  with  the  blood  of  Ireland's  best  and  most 
faithful  sons :  it  has  been  plunged  in  the  fatal  waters  of  the 
Boyne ;  but  never  has  the  nation,  for  a  single  hour,  hesitated 
to  lift  that  prostrate  banner,  and  fling  it  out  to  the  breeze 
of  Heaven,  and  proclaim  that  Ireland  was  still  full  of  hope. 
Scotland  had  as  glorious  a  l^anner  as  ours.  The  Scottish  ban- 
ner was  hauled  down  upon  the  plains  of  Colloden ;  and  the 
Scots,  chivalrous  as  their  fathers  were,  never  raised  that  flag 
to  the  masthead  again :  it  has  di8aj^>eared.     It  is  no  longer 


TEE  miSH  m  RELATION  TO  CATHOLICITT.     217 

'<  Ireland  and  Scotland  and  England,"  as  it  nsed  to  be ;  it  is 
**  Great  Britain  and  Ireland."  Why  is  it  **  Great  Britain 
and  Irdandf  "  Why  is  it  not  simply  **  Great  Britain  ?  " 
Why  is  the  sovereign  called  the  "  Queen  of  Great  Britain 
amd  Irdaand  f  "  Because  Ireland  refused  to  give  up  her 
hope ;  and  Ireland  never  acknowledged  that  she  was  ever 
anything  else  but  a  nation.  Well,  my  Mends,  it  was  that 
principle  of  hope  that  sustained  our  fathers  during  those 
thousand  years  during  which  they  kept  their  faith.  And 
the  word  of  Scripture,  as  recorded  in  t^e  book  of  Tobias,  is 
this :  wlien  the  Jews  were  banished  into  Babylonish  captiv- 
ity— when  the  people  of  every  nation  came  to  them  and 
said,  **  Why  should  you  be  persecuted  on  account  of  your 
God  ?  Give  him  up.  Why  do  you  refuse  to  conform  to 
the  laws  and  usages  of  the  people  around  you  ?  Give  up 
your  God.  Do  not  be  making  fools  of  yourselves:"  the 
Jews  said :  **  Speak  not  so ;  for  we  are  the  children  of  the 
Saints ;  we  know  and  hope  in  our'^od.  He  never  forsakes 
those  who  never  change  their  £dth  in  Him."  This  is  the 
inspired  language  of  Scripture ;  and  well  the  Irish  knew  it; 
— and,  therefore,  as  long  as  Irishmen  kept  their  &ith  to 
their  God  and  their  altar,  so  they  wisely  and  very  constantly 
refused  to  lay  down  their  hope.  The  Christian  character  is 
made  up  of  hope  as  well  as  of  faith  and  of  love.  If  Ireland 
laid  down  her  hope  in  despair,  that  high  note  of  Christian 
character  would  never  be  in  her.  The  Irish  people  never 
knew  they  were  beaten.  Year  after  year, — one  day  out  and 
another  day  in, — ^whilst  the  nations  around  were  amazed  at 
the  bull-dog  tenacity  of  that  people  with  two  ideas,  namely, 
that  they  were  Catiiolic,  and  a  Nation — Ireland  never  lost 
sight  of  her  hope.  What  was  the  consequence  of  this? 
Enshrined  in  the  national  heart  and  in  the  national  aims, 
there  has  been — wherever  the  Irishman  exists,  there  has 
been  the  glory  upon  his  head  of  the  man  whose  courage  in 
the  hour  of  danger,  could  be  relied  upon.  Every  nation  in 
Europe  has  had  a  taste  of  what  Ireland's  courage  is.  They 
fought  in  the  armies  of  Germany,  in  those  Austrian  armies, 
where  ten  thousand  Irishmen,  for  thirty  years,  were  every 
day  encamped  in  the  field.  They  fought  in  the  armies  of 
Spain ;  ten  thousand  Irishmen  encamped  in  the  field.  They 
fought  in  the  armies— once  so  glorious^-6f  France ;  thirty 
thousand  Irishmen,  with  Patrick  Sarsfield  at  their  heaiL 
10 


218  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISR. 

Did  they  ever  tiim  their  backs  and  run  away  ?  Never.  At 
the  battle  of  Ramillies,  when  the  French  were  beaten,  and 
they  were  flying  before  the  English,  the  English  in  the  heat 
of  their  pursuit,  met  a  division  of  the  French  army.  Ah  I 
that  division  was  the  "  Irish  Brigade."  They  stopped  them 
in  the  full  tide  of  their  victory,  and  they  drove  them  back 
and  took  the  colors  out  of  their  hands  and  marched  off  after 
the  French  army.  If  any  of  you  go  to  Europe  it  will  be 
worth  your  while  to  go  to  an  old  Flemish  town  called  Ypres. 
In  the  cathedral  there  you  will  find  flags  and  banners  lying 
about.  If  you  will  ask  the  sexton  to  explain  these 'flags  to 
you  (perhaps  you  will  have  to  give  him  a  sixpence),  he  will 
come  to  one  of  these  flags  and  say  "  That  is  the  banner  that 
the  Irish  took  from  the  English  in  the  very  hour  of  their 
victory  at  Ramillies."  King  Louis  was  going  to  turn  and 
fly  at  the  battle  of  Fontenoy  ;  but  Marshal  Saxe  told  him  to 
wait  for  five  minutes  until  he  should  see  more.  "Your 
Majesty,  don't  be  in  such  a  hurry ;  wait  a  minute ;  it  will  be 
time  enough  to  run  away  when  the  Irish  run."  Calling  out 
to  Lord  Clare  he  said :  **  There  are  your  men  and  there  are 
the  Saxons."  The  next  moment  there  was  a  hurra  heard 
over  the  field.  In  the  Irish  language  they  cried  out — "  Re- 
member Limerick,  and  down  with  the  Sassenach  !  "  That 
column  of  Englishmen  melted  before  the  charge  of  the  Irish, 
just  as  the  snow  melts  in  the  ditch  when  the  sun  shines  upon 
it.  When  a  man  loses  hope  he  loses  courage ;  he  gives  it  up. 
"  It  is  a  bad  job,"  he  says  ;  "  there  is  no  use  going  on  any 
farther."  But  as  long  as  he  can  keep  his  courage  up,  with 
the  lion  in  his  heart,  so  long  you  may  be  sure  there  is.  some* 
grand  principle  of  hope  in  him.  Ours  is  a  race  that  has 
almost  "hoped  against  hope."  I  say  that  comes  from  our 
Catholic  religion — the  Catholic  religion  that  tells  us :  "  You 
are  down  to-day  ;  but,  do  not  be  afraid  ;  hold  on ;  lean  upon 
your  God.     You  will  be  up  to-morrow." 

The  third  grand  feature  of  the  Christian  is  love ;  a  love 
both  strong  and  tender ;  a  love  that  first  finds  its  vent  in 
God ;  with  all  of  the  energies  of  the  spirit  and  the  heart  and 
soul  going  straight  for  God ;  crushing  aside  whatever  is  in  its 
path  of  the  temptations  of  men  ;  and  in  faith  and  hope  and 
love,  making  straight  for  God.  Trampling  upon  his  passions, 
the  man  of  love  goes  straight  towards  God ;  and,  in  that 
journey  to  God,  he  will  allow  nothing  to  hinder  him.     No 


THE  IRI8E  m  RELATION  TO   CATHOLICITT.     219 

matter  what  sacrij&ce  that  God  calls  upon  him  to  make,  he 
is  ready  to  make  it ;  for  the  principle  of  sacrifice  is  divine 
love.  Most  assuredly,  never  did  her  God  call  upon  Erin  for 
a  sacrifice  that  Erin  did  not  make  it.  God  sent  to  Ireland 
the  messenger  of  His  wrath,  the  wretched  Elizabej^.  She 
called  upon  Ireland  for  Ireland's  liberty  and  Ireland's  laud ; 
and  the  people  gave  up  both  rather  than  forsake  their  Grod. 
God  sent  Ireland  another  curse  in  Oliver  Cromwell — a  man 
upon  whom  I  would  not  lay  an  additional  curse,  for  any  con- 
sideration; because  for  a  man  to  lay  an  additional  curse 
upon  Oliver  Cromwell  would  be  like  throwing  an  additional 
drop  of  water  on  a  drowned  rat.  Cromwell  called  upon  the 
Irish  people,  and  said  :  "  Become  Protestant  and  you  will 
have  your  land  ;  you  will  have  your  possessions,  your  wealth. 
Remain  Catholic  and  take  your  choice ; — *  hell  or  Con- 
naught.'  "  Ireland  made  the  sacrifice ;  and,  on  the  25th  day 
of  May,  1651,  every  Catholic  supposed  to  be  in  Ireland 
crossed  the  Shannon,  and  went  into  the  wild  wastes  of  Con- 
naught  rather  than  give  up  their  faith.  William  of  Orange 
came  to  Ireland  ;  §nd  he  called  upon  the  Irish  to  renoimce 
their  faith  or  submit  to  a  new  persecution — new  penal  laws. 
Ireland  said :  ''  I  will  fight  against  injustice  as  long  as  I 
can ;  but  when  the  arm  of  the  nation  is  paralyzed,  and  I  can 
no  longer  wield  the  sword,  one  thing  I  will  hold  in  spite  of 
death  and  hell,  and  that  is  my  most  glorious  Catholic  faith." 
If  they  did  not  love  their  God  would  they  have  done  this  ? 
Would  they  have  suffered  this  ?  If  they  did  not  piize  that 
faith,  would  they  have  preferred  it  to  their  liberty,  their 
wealth,  and  their  very  lives  ?  No,  no  !  Patrick  sent  the 
love  of  God  and  the  Virgin  Mother  deep  into  the  hearts  of 
the  Irish  ;  and  in  our  Irish  spirit,  and  in  the  blood  of  the 
nation  it  has  remained  to  this  day.  Wherever  an  Irishman, 
true  to  his  country,  true  to  his  religion  exists,  there  do  you 
find  a  lover  of  Jesus  Christ  and  of  Mary. 

More  than  this,  their  love  for  their  neighbor  shows  this  in 
two  magnificent  ways — ^the  fidelity  of  the  Irish  husband  to 
the  Irish  wife,  and  the  Irish  son  to  the  Iridi  father  and 
mother,  and  of  the  Irish  father  to  his  children.  Where  is 
there  a  nation  in  whom  those  traits  are  more  magnificently 
brought  out  ?  England  told  Ireland,  a  few  years  ago,  that 
the  Irish  husbands  might  divorce  their  Irish  wives.  Noth- 
ing was  heard  from  one  end  of  the  land  to  the  other  but  a 


220  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH, 

loud  shout  of  laughter.  "  O,  listen  to  that !  So,  a  man 
can  separate  from  his  wifel  The  curse  of  Cromwell  on 
ye  1 "  England  told  the  fathers  of  Ireland  that  it  was 
a  felony  to  send  their  children  to  school.  And  yet 
never  did  the  Irish  Others  neglect  that  sacred  duty  of 
education.  When,  actually,  it  was  found  that  a  man  was 
sending  his  children  to  school,  he  was  liable  to  a  fine  and  im-  . 
prisonment.  In  spite  of  the  imprisonment  and  the  fine  the 
Irish  people,  who  never  have  been  serfs,  refused  to  be  the 
slaves  of  ignorance;  and  Ireland  was  always  an  educated 
nation.  In  the  worst  day  of  our  persecution — in  the  worst 
day  of  our  misery — there  was  one  man  that  was  always 
respected  in  the  land  next  to  the  Priest ;  and  that  was  the 
"  Poor  Scholar,"  with  a  few  books  under  his  arm,  perhaps 
without  three  halfpence  worth  of  clothes  upon  him,  going 
from  one  farm-house  to  the  other,  with  the  "  God  save  all 
here !  "  He  got  the  best  of  the  house,  the  best  bed,  the  cosiest 
place  in  the  straw  chair.  And  the  children  were  all  called 
in  from  the  neighboring  houses  and  from  the  village.  He 
could  spend  a  week  from  one  house  to  another.  Every  house 
in  Ireland  was  turned  into  a  school-house  at  one  time  or 
another.  Hence  I  have  known  men,  old  men  of  my  own 
family,  who  remembered  1782.  I  have, — when  a  child, — 
seen  them,  in  their  old  age.;  and  these  men,  brought  up  in 
those  days  of  penal  persecution  and  misery,  with  its  enforced 
ignorance,  were  first-class  controversialists.  They  knew  how 
to  read  and  write ;  they  knew  Dr.  Gallagher's  sermons  by 
heart.  There  was  no  Protestant  bishop  or  Protestant  min- 
ister in  Ireland  that  could  hold  his  ground  five  minutes  be- 
fore them. 

.The  nation's  love,  the  people's  love  for  that  which 
was  next  to  their  God,  the  very  next,  is  the  love  of  a 
man  for  his  country.  Is  there  any  land  so  loved  as  Ireland 
by  its  people  ?  Sarsfield,  dying  upon  the  plains  of  Landen, 
is  only  a  fair  type  of  the  ordinary  Irishman.  There  were 
many  as  good  men,  as  heroic  men,  in  the  ranks  of  the 
Irish  Brigade  that  fell  that  day  as  Sarsfield,  who,  in  the  full 
career  of  victory,  at  the  head  of  Lord  Clare's  Dragoons,  pur- 
sued the  British  army,  as  they  fled  from  him.  William  of 
Orange  was  in  their  ranks,  flying  and  showing  the  broad  of 
his  back  to  Sarsfield,  as  sword  in  hand,  gleaming  like  the 
sword  of  God's  justice ; — the  Irish  hero  was  in  full  chase ; 


THE  ISISH  m  RELATION  TO  CATHOLIOITT.     221 

when  a  musket  ball  struck  him  to  the  heart,  and  he  fell  dying 
from  his  horse.  The  blood  was  welling  out  hot  from  his  very 
heart;  he  took  the  full  of  his  hand  of  his  heart's  blood,  and 
raising  his  eyes  to  Heaven  he  cried :  "  Oh,  that  this  were  shed 
for  Ireland !  "  A  true  Irishman  I  Where  was  the  nation  that 
was  ever  so  loved  ?  In  the  three  hundred  years  of  persecu- 
tion, take  the  t)Tie<vc<viTi  (Sreatlicdr),  the  old  Irish  Eriar, 
the  Dominicans  and  Franciscans,  who  were  of  the  first  fami- 
lies of  the  land — the  O'Neils,  the  McGuires,  the  McDon- 
nells, the  McDermotts,  down  in  Galway ;  the  Frenches,  the 
Lynches,  the  Blakes,  and  the  Burkes.  These  fair  youths 
used  to  be  actually  smuggled  out  by  night  and  sent  off  the 
coast  of  Ireland  to  Rome,  to  France  and  Spain,  to  study 
there.  Enjoying  the  delicious  climates  of  those  lovely  coun- 
tries, surrounded  by  honor,  leading  easy  lives,  filUng  their 
time  with  the  study  and  intellectual  pleasures  of  the  priest- 
hood, every  man  felt  uneasy.  To  use  the  old  familiar  phrase, 
**  They  were  like  a  hen  on  a  hot  griddle,"  as  long  as  they 
were  away  from  Ireland,  although  they  knew  that  in  Ireland 
they  were  liable  to  be  thrown  into  prison  or  be  subjected  to 
death.  Throughout  long  centuries  of  persecution,  if  one 
fell  in  the  ranks,  another  stepped  into  his  place.  Of  six 
hundred  Dominicans  in  Ireland,  at  the  time  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth, there  were  only  four  remaining  after  she  passed  her 
mild  hand  over  them.  Where  did  they  come  from  ?  From 
out  of  the  love  of  Ireland  and  the  heart  and  the  blood  of  her 
best  sons.  They  would  not  be  satisfied  with  honors  and  dig- 
nities in  other  lands.  No.  Their  hearts  were  hungry  until 
they  caught  sight  of  the  green  soil  and  stood  amongst  the 
shamrocks  once  more. 

And  now  I  say  to  you, — and  all  the  history  of  our  nation 
proves  it, — I  say  that  the  Irish  race  to-day  is  not  one  bit  un- 
like the  race  of  two  or  three  hundred  years  ago.  We  are  the 
same  people :  and  why  should  we  not  be  ?  We  have  their 
blood ;  we  have  their  names ;  their  faith ;  their  traditions, 
their  love.  I  ask  you,  is  not  the  Irishman  of  to-day  a  man 
of  faith,  hope,  and  love  ?  Who  built  this  beautiful  church  ? 
Who  erected  this  magnificent  altar  ?  Who  made  this  place  in 
which  resounds  Father  Mooney's  voice,  pleasantly  tinged  with 
the  old  Irish  roll  and  brogue  ?  He  has  a  little  touch  of  it 
and  he  is  not  ashamed  of  it.  I  remember  once,  when  a  lady 
in  England  said  to  me :  '<  The  moment  you  spoke  to  me, 


222  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRI8K 

Father,  I  at  once  perceived  you  were  an  IrisLiman ;  you  have 
got  what  they  call  the  brogue."  "Yes,  madame,'Vsaid  I, 
"  my  father  had  it,  a'nd  my  mother  had  it ;  but  my  grand- 
father and  my  grandmother  did  not  have  it ;  because  they 
did  not  speak  English  at  all.  Yes,"  I  said,  **  I  have  the 
brogue  ;  and  I  am  full  of  hope  that  when  .my  soul  arrives  at 
Heaven's  gate,  and  I  ask  St.  Peter  to  admit  me,  I  think  when 
he  hears  the  touch  of  the  brogue  on  my  tongue,  he  will  let 
me  in."  But  I  asked  who  built  this  church  ?  who  has  cov- 
ered America  with  our  glorious  Catholic  churches?  All 
credit  and  honor  to  every  Catholic  race.  All  honor  and 
credit  to  the  Catholic  Frenchman  and  to  the  Catholic  German. 
The  Germans  of  this  country — those  brave  men ;  those  sons 
of  Catholics ;  those  descendants  of  the  great  Koman  Emperors 
that  upheld  for  so  many  centuries  the  sceptre  in  defence  of 
the  altar,  have  done  great  things  in  this  country :  but,  my 
friends,  it  is  Ireland,  after  all,  that  has  done  the  lion's  share 
of  it.  What  brought  the  Irishman  to  America, — «o  bright, . 
so  cheerful,  so  full  of  hope?  The  undying  hope  that  was  in 
him ;  the  confidence  that,  wherever  he  went, — as  long  as  he 
was  a  true  Catholic,  and  faithful  to  the  traditions  of  the 
Church  to  which  he  belongs,  and  to  the  nation  from  which 
he  sprang, — that  the  hand  of  God  would  help  him  and  bring 
him  up  to  the  surface,  sooner  or  later.  And  the  Iiishman 
of  to-day,  like  his  nation,  is  as  hopeful  as  any  man  in  the 
past  time. 

Have  we  not  a  proof  of  their  love  ?  Ah  !  my  friends,  who 
is  it  that  remembers  the  old  father  and  mother  at  home  ? 
Who,  among  the  emigrants  and  strangers  coming  to  this 
land,  whose  eye  fills  with  the  ready  tear  as  soon  as  he  hears 
the  familiar  voice  reminding  him  of  those  long  in  their  graves,- 
as  soon  as  their  names  are  mentioned  ?  Who  is  it  that  is 
only  waiting  to  earn  his  first  ten  dollars,  in  order  to  send  five 
of  them  home  to  his  aged  father  and  mother  ?  Who  is  it 
that  would  as  soon  think  of  cutting  out  his  tongue  from  the 
roots,  or  taking  the  eyes  out  of  his  head,  as  abandon  the 
wife  of  his  bosom?  The  true  Catholic  Irishman.  These 
things  are  matters  of  observation  and  experience,  just  as  the 
past  is  a  matter  of  history.  And,  therefore,  I  say  that  you 
and  I  are  not  ashamed  of  the  men  that  are  in  their  graves, 
even  though  they  lie  in  martyr  graves.  As  we  are  true  to 
them,  so  shall  our  children  be  true  to  us.     As  we  were  true 


TEE  IRISH  IN  RELATION  TO-  CATEOLICITT.     223 

to  them,  so  we  shall  continue  to  be  true  to  them.  That  is 
the  secret  of  Ireland's  power, — the  faith  that  has  never 
changed,  the  hope  that  never  despairs,  the  love  that  is  never 
extinguished;  I  say  the  secret  of  Ireland's  power  is  this 
mighty  love  that  lifts  itself  up  to  God.  Dispersed  and  scat- 
tered as  we  are,  that  love  that  makes  us  all  meet  as  brethren ; . 
that  love  that  brings  the  tear  to  the  eye  at  the  mention  of  the 
old  soil ;  that  love  that  makes  one  little  word  of  Irish  ring  like 
music  in  our  ears ;  that  love  that  makes  us  treasure  the  tradi- 
tions of  our  history ;  that  love  makes  us  a  power,  still; — and 
we  a/re  a  power,  though  divided  by  three  thousand  miles  of  At- 
lantic Ocean's  waves  rolling  between  America  and  IrelaQd  at 
home ; — but  the  Irishman  in  America  knows  that  his  brotjier 
at  home  looks  to  him  with  hope;  and  the  Irishman  in  Ire-' 
land  knows  that  his  brother  in  America  is  only  waiting  to 
do  what  he  can  for  the  old  land.  What  is  it  you  can  do? 
— ^that  is  the  question.  I  answer,  be  true  to  your  religion,  be 
true  to  your  &itherland,  be  true  to  your  families  and  to  your- 
selves, be  true  to  the  glorious  Republic  that  opened  her 
arms  to  receive  you,  and  gave  you  the  rights  of  citizenship. 
Be  ti*ue  to  America;  she  has  already  had  a  sample  of  what 
kind  of  men  she  received  when  she  opened  her  arms  to  the 
Irish.  They  gave  her  a  taste  of  it  at  Fredericksburg,  fight- 
ing her  battles;  they  gave  her  a  sample  of  it  all  through 
those  terrible  campaigns;  she  knows  what  they  are  and 
begins  to  prize  it.  Never  fear,  when  you  add  to  your  Irish 
brains  and  intellect  by  education,  and  to  your  Irish  minds  by 
temperance,  and  to  your  Irish  hands  by  the  spirit  of  indus- 
try and  self-respect ; — be  men ;  even  in  this  land,  I  say,  be 
Irishmen.  Then  the  day  will  come  when  this  great  Iri^h 
element  in  America  will  enter  largely  into  the  council  ^hdm- 
bers  of  this  great  nation,  and  will  shape  her  policy,  will  form 
her  ideas  and  her  thoughts  in  a  great  measure,  pressing  them 
in  the  istrong  mold  of  Catholicity  and  of  justice.  And  when 
that  day  comes  to  us,  I  would  like  to  see  who  would  lay  "  a  wet 
finger  "  on  Ireland.  This  is  what  I  mean  when  I  tell  you 
what  Ireland  hopes  from  America.  Ireland's  bone  and  sinew 
is  in  America ;  and  it  is  from  the  intelligence  of  her  children 
in  America,  and  their  adherence  to  their  religion,  their  culti- 
vation of  every  principal  virtue,  and  from  the  influence  that 
virtue,  and  that  enlightenment,  and  that  intelligence  and 
talent,  will  assuredly  bring,  in  this  country,  will  come  the 


224 


IRELAND  Aim  TEE  ZRISH. 


help  that  Ireland  looks  for.  Suppose  that  for  Ireland  some 
coercion  bill  is  going  to  pass,  and  some  tyrant  oppressor  is 
going  to  trample  upon  the  old  nation.  If  the  Irishman  knows 
the  position  of  his  countrymen  in  America,  he  will  say, 
''  Hold  on,  my  Mend ;  do  not  begin  until  you  get  a  dispatch 
from  Washington.  Hold  on,  my  friend ;  there  are  Irish  Senar- 
tors  in  the  great  Senate ;  there  are  Irish  Congressmen  in  the 
great  Congress ;  there  are  Irishmen  in  the  Cabinet ;  there 
are  Irishmen  behind  the  guns ;  there  are  Irishmen  writing 
out  political  warnings  and  protocols ;  there  are  Irish  ambas- 
sadors at  the  foreign  courts;  learn  what  they  have  to  say 
before  you  trample  upon  us."  This  is  what  I  mean  when  I 
speak  of  what  Ireland  hopes  from  America. 

'And  now,  my  friends,  you  know  that,  whatever  way  a 
priest  may  begin  his  lecture,  when  he  goes  through  it  he 
always  ends  with  a  kind  of  exhortation.  In  the  name  of 
God,  let  us  make  a  resolution  here  to-night,  to  be  all  that  I 
have  described  to  you — all  that  Irishmen  ought  to  be — and 
leave  the  rest  to  GUkL 


ST.  COLUMBKILLE. 

(A  Lecture  ddivered  hy  the  Very  Sec.  T.  2f.  Burke,  0.  P.,  in  8t. 
Colvmba's  Churchy  New  York,  October  22d,  1872.) 

My  Friends, — There  are  two  things  necessary  in  order  to 
make  a  Saint.  Nature  and  grace  must  both  work  out  the 
character  of  the  man.  Those  whom  the  Ahnightj  God  des- 
tines for  the  high  sanctity  which  the  Catholic  Church  re-' 
cognizes  by  canonization,  either  receive  from  God,  in  the  be- 
ginning, a  calm,  sweet,  gentle  nature ;  or  else,  if  they  receive 
from  God  a  hard,  -Rigorous,  obstinate  nature,  they  receive, 
on  the  other  hand,  copious  divine  graces,  whereby  they  over- 
come this  nature  thoroughly,  and  make  themselves  after  God's 
own  nature.  But  whatever  a  man's  natural  disposition  be, 
whether  it  be  the  amiable,  sweet,  gentle  disposition,  easily, 
unselfishly  yielding  to  others ;  or  wheth^  full  of  character, 
,  full  of  self-assertion,  full  of  vigor,  full  of  obstinacy, — what- 
ever it  be, — if  that  man  is  destined  to  be  a  holy  man,  a  man 
after  God's  own  heart  and  nature, — there  is  another  thmg  that 
must  come  to  him  from  heaven,  to  aid  the  natural  disposi- 
tion which  he  has  received ;  and,  that  is  the  mighty,  copi- 
ous graces  imparted  by  the  Almighty  God  to  the  Saints  of 
the  Catholic  Church. 

The  Ssdnts  of  whom  we  read  were  men  like  ourselves.  In 
reading  their  Uves,  nothing  is  more  interesting  than  to  trace 
the  man  side  by  side  with  the  saint.  They  had  the  same 
passions ;  they  had  the  same  difficulties  to  overcome  that  we 
have.  They  had  the  same  enemies.  The  world  lay  around 
them ;  the  devil  was  beneath  them ;  and  the  flesh  was  their 
very  selves.  But,  arming  for  this  contest  whereby  they  were 
to  triumph, — ^not  only  over  the  world  around  them,  and  over 
the  powers  of  hell  beneath  them,  but  over  their  own  selves, 
— they  received  from  God  the  highest,  the  noblest,  and  the 
most  powerful  graces;  and,  by  corresponding  with  these 
graces,  they  elaborated  and  brought  forth  their  own  sanctity. 

Now,  what  follows  from  all  this  ?    My  dear  friends,  it  fol- 
10* 


226  IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRISH. 

lows  that  there  is  a  natural  and  a  supernatural  side,  even  in 
the  lives  of  the  Saints ;  it  follows  that  we  find  the  man  over- 
coming himself;  sometimes  yielding  so  far  as  to  bring  out 
his  natural  character ;  but,  in  the  end,  overcoming  himself 
by  divine  grace.  It  follows  that  the  lives  of  the  Saints  are 
not  only  most  instructive  to  us  as  Catholics,  but  that  they 
are  also  most  instructive  to  the  historian,  or  to  the  antiqua- 
rian, as  examples  of  national  character. 

Now,  my  friends,  the  world  is  divided  into  various  na- 
tions and  races  of  people ;  and  all  these  various  races  differ 
from  one  another  in  the  most  extraordinary  manner.  All 
that  you  have  to  do  is  to  travel  to  see  this.  I  have  travelled 
a  great  deal, — all  over  the  Continent  of  Europe,  I  may  say, 
with  the  exception  of  Kussia  and  Turkey ; — and  nothing,  in 
all  these  countries,  struck  me  more  than  the  differencis  of  the 
various  races.  For  instance,  I  travelled  in  France,  and  there 
I  found  a  lively,  impulsive,  generous,  passionate  people, — - 
most  polite,  most  willing  to  go  out  of  their  road  to  serve  you 
in  any  manner ;  entering  into  a  stage-coach  or  railway  car, 
hat  in  hand,  with  a  "  May  I  be  permitted  to  speak  to  you, 
sir,"  style ;  making  themselves  agreeable  to  you  at  all  times. 
Passing  through  France  into  Germany,  there  I  found  a  peo- 
ple silent  and  reserved,  with  perhaps,  more  of  the  grandeur 
of  manliness  than  in  France ;  but  no  approach  to  anything 
like  conversation ;  no  apparent  external  politeness,  though  a 
great  deal,  no  doubt,  of  true  politeness :  in  a  word,  as  differ- 
ent from  the  neighboring  country  as  night  from  day.  So, 
in  like  manner,  go  to  Ireland  and  travel.  ^  Let  a  man  who  is 
not  an  Irishman,  go  there ;  and  he  finds  a  quick,  bright,  in- 
telligent, generous,  and  impulsive  people.  If  he  makes  a 
joke,  no  sooner  is  it  out  of  his  lips  than  the  Irishman  laughs, 
and  by  his  ready  laugh  shows  that  he  appreciates  the  joke. 
If  he  does  not  make  a  joke,  the  simplest  Irish  peasant  he 
meets  on  the  road,  will  make  one  for  him.  If  he  wants  a 
drink  of  water,  and  asks  for  it,  the  probability  is,  that  the 
farmer's  wife  will  say  to  him :  "  Don't  take  water ;  it  is  bad 
for  you :  take  a  drink  of  milk."  They  are  impulsive ;  speak- 
ing without  thinking ;  saying  the  word  first,  and  afterwards 
thinking  whether  it  was  right  or  wrong  to  say  it ;  perhaps, 
giving  you  a  blow  in  the  face ;  and  afterwards  thinking  that, 
may  be,  you  did  not  deserve  it.  Pass  over  to  England,  and 
you  find  a  country  as  different  as  if  you  had  gone  from 


8T.   COLUMBKILLE,  227 

this  world  into  another  sphere.  Everything  is  kept  in  its 
own  place.  You  may  pass  through  the  land,  and  there  is 
neither  welcome  nor  insult  for  you.  If  you  ask  for  a  drink 
of  water,  there  is  very  little  fear  that  you  will  be  offered  a 
drink  of  milk. 

So,  throughout  all  the  world, — throughout  all  the  nations 
of  the  earth, — each  one  has  its  own  character.  Do  not  im- 
agine that  I  am  abusing  the  Englishman,  or  contrasting  him 
unfairly  with  the  Irishman.  My  fiiends,  I  am  one  of  your 
own  race ;  but  I  tell  you  that  the  Englishman  has  qualities 
that  are  admirable.  As  a  rule,  he  is  a  brave  man,  a  self- 
reliant  man,  a  truthful  man :  his  word  is  his  bond.  Only 
leaving  Ireland  and  the  Catholic  religion  out  of  the  question, 
you  may  argue  with  him  on  any  subject,  and  you  will  find 
him  a  fair  man :  but,  the  moment  you  talk  about  Catholicity, 
or  about  Ireland, — he  no  longer  reasons ;  his  prejudices  run 
away  with  his  judgment. 

Now,  why  am  I  making  these  remarks  ?  For  ttis  pur- 
pose : — The  Saints  of  the  various  nations  share  in  the  na- 
tional character.  They  are,  perhaps,  the  very  best  speci- 
mens of  the  National  character  of  each  nation  or  people. 
Whatever  the  nation  is,  that  you  are  sure  to  find  in  the 
natural  side  of  their  Saints'  characters  ;  with  this  difference : . 
there  you  find  the  grace  of  the  Almighty  God,  in  its  highest, 
noblest,  and  strongest  form,  acting  upon  the  natural  charac- 
ter of  the  man, — or,  if  you  will,  upon  the  national  character 
of  the  people  as  embodied  in  that  man.  I  am  come  here 
this  evening  to  speak  to  you  of  one  of  the  greatest  Saints  in 
the  Catholic  Church ; — a  man  whose  name  is  recorded  in 
the  annals  of  the  Church  amongst  her  brightest  and  most 
glorious  Saints  ; — a  man  whose  name  is  known  throughout 
the  whole  world,  wherever  a  Catholic  Priest  says  his  *'  Of- . 
fice,".and  wherever  a  Catholic  people  hear  the  voice  of  their 
pastor.  There  are  many  Saints  in  the  Catholic  Church  of 
whom  we  hear  but  little.  There  are  many  Saints, — heroic 
Christian  men,  exalted  in  their  sanctity, — and  what  do  you 
know  about  them  ?  You  are  Catholics,  and  yet  you  have 
scarcely  ever  heard  the  names  of  some  of  the  great  and  il- 
lustrious Saints ;  of  St.  Louis  Bertrand,  for  instance,  a 
Dominican  Saint  of  my  Order  ;  one  of  the  gi-eatest  evangel- 
ists God  ever  sent  forth ;  or  of  St.  Hyacinthe.  But  there 
are  names  of  Saints  who  were  so  great  that  the  whole  world 


228  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

is  familiar  with  them.  St.  Augustine ; — we  have  all  heard 
of  him ;  St.  Patrick,  who  has  the  most  ardent  devotion  of 
the  Irish  race ;  his  name  is  known  to  the  whole  world,  and 
will  be  known  to  the  end  of  time.  Amongst  these  mighty 
Saints, — amongst  the  Saints  who  have  written  their  names 
upon  the  history  of  the  world, — amongst  those  Saints 
adopted  by  nations  as  their  patrons,  whose  names  are  famil- 
iar to  every  hearth  in  the  laiid,  where  civilization  and  relig- 
ion have  extended  themselves, — is  the  name  of  the  Irish 
Saint  Clolumbkille, — known  outside  of  Ireland  by  the  name 
of  Oolumba,  but  known  amongst  his  own  people  as  Columb- 
kille.  It  is  of  him  I  have  come  to  speak.  Therefore  I 
speak  of  the  national  character, — the  natural  side  of  the 
Saints,— as  embodied  in  him. 

You  all  know,  my  dear  friends,  that  it  is  now  fifteen  hun- 
dred years  since  St.  Patrick  preached  in  Ireland.  At  that 
time,  the  religion  of  Christ  was  only  known  in  Italy,  in 
Spain,  "in  portions  of  France,  and  throughout  the  East,  in 
the  primaeval  nations.  The  rest  of  Europe  was  in  darkness. 
As  yet,  the  voice  of  the  apostolic  preacher  had  not  been 
heard.  The  forests  of  Germany  still  witnessed  the  rites  and 
ceremonies  of  ancient  Paganism  in  that  great  land.  The 
Northern  portions  of  Europe, — Sweden,  Norway,  and  Rus- 
sia,— amid  their  snows,  still  heard  the  voices  of  the  ancient 
SkcddSj  celebrating  in  their  sagaa,  the  Pagan  divinities  of 
the  olden  time.  England  was  in  the  deepest  darkness  of 
her  Saxon  idolatry.  A  few  of  the  ancient  Britons,  in  the 
mountains  of  "Wales,  had  received  the  Catholic  faith ;  and 
their  Bishops  and  Priests  were  ungenerous  enough,  and 
weak  enough,  to  refuse  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  the  Saxons, 
because  they  had  invaded  their  land.  It  was  in  this  almost 
universal  mist  and  darkness  that,  in  the  year  442,  a  man 
landed  on  the  shores  of  Ireland,  and  lifted  up  his  voice  and 
proclaimed  the  name  of  Christ  and  His  Virgin  Mother ;  and 
the  Irish  race,  to-day,  profess  the  same  Catholic  faiih,  in 
all  the  clearness  and  all  the  exact  definiteness  of  its  knowl- 
edge ;  and  profess  it  still  more  in  the  sanctity  of  the  na- 
tional priesthood,  and  the  system  of  monasticism,  as  it  was 
given  to  them  from  the  lips  of  St.  Patrick.  My  dear  friends, 
no  matter  what  men  may  say,  I  am  here  as  a  Catholic, 
as  an  Irish  priest,  and  I  defy  any  man  in  the  world  to  pro- 
duce such  a  miraculous  example  of  conversion  and  of  instant 


ST.    COLUliBKILLB.  229 

maturity  into  the  fullness  of  love,  and  holiness  of  life,  as 
that  of  the  Irish  race. 

Now,  St.  Patrick  had  passed  to  his  grave.  More  than 
half  a  century  had  passed  by,  when,  in  the  year  521,  one  of 
the  Princes  of  Ulster  had  a  son  bom  to  him.  He  was  of 
the  royal  house  of  O'Neil  and  O'Donnell,  and  descended 
from  "  King  Nial  of  the  Nine  Hostages,"  the  man  who  was 
supposed  to  have  brought  St.  Patrick,  as  a  captive,  into  Ire- 
land, for  the  first  time.  This  house  of  O'Donnell  and  O'Neil 
is  so  ancient  that  its  origin  is  lost  in  the  mists  of  fable,  in 
the  pre-historic  time  that  goes  before  any  written  record  ex- 
cept the  Holy  Scriptures.  They  were  kings  in  the  northern 
parts  of  Ireland  from  the  sixth  century  downward.  St. 
Patrick  landed  in  Ireland,  and  found  the  royal  house  of 
O'Neil  on  the  throne  of  Ireland.  In  the  reign  of  Queen 
Elizabeth, — only  three  hundred  years  ago, — there  lived  an 
Irish  Prince  by  the  name  of  O'Neil :  and  when  Elizabeth 
wanted  to  make  him  an  English  Earl,  he  answered  her :  "  No 
Earls  for  me ;  my  foot  is  on  my  native  soil ;  "  and  he  sent 
her  back  her  dignities  and  her  honors.  No  King  in  Europe 
had  so  grand,  so  royal  a  title  as  that  crown  of  the  O'Neils 
of  Ulster.  From  these  came  St.  Columbkille.  The  name 
he  received  was  not  given  him  in  baptism,  but  at  his  confirma- 
tion. The  word  "  Colvmba "  is  tiie  I^tin  word  for  dove. 
So  gentle,  so  tender,  was  he,  so  patient,  that  they  called  him 
the  "gentle  dove,"  in  the  Irish  language.  They  went  fur- 
ther, and,  because  he  was  a  monk  who  loved  to  read  in  his 
cell ;  who  loved  to  live  among  his  brothers  in  their  cells, 
they  called  him  "  Columbkille,"  which  meant  the  dove  in 
a  church,  or  ceU.  Tradition  and  history  tell  us  that,  no 
sooner  was  the  child  bom,  than  his  prince-father  called  in 
the  Priest  to  baptize  him.  There  was  no  delay ;  not  even 
for  an  hour.  As  soon  as  the  infant  opened  his  eyes,  and 
saw  the  Kght  of  heaven,  the  divine  adoption  and  the  light 
of  supernatural  fidth  were  let  in  upon  his  soul  by  the  holy 
waters  of  baptism.  No  sooner  was  the  child  taken  from 
his  mother's  breast  than  he  was  handed  over  to  the  care 
of  the  Priest,  who  baptized  him ;  his  father  and  mother 
saying:  "We  begot  this  child  as  a  child  of  nature,  a 
child  of  Adam.  As  far  as  he  is  ours,  he  came  into  this 
world  with  the  curse  of  God  upon  him.  But  thou,  O  Priest 
of  God,  thou  dost  lifb  off  that  curse,  and  dissipate  it  by 


230  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH, 

Baptism.  He  is  more  your  child  than  ours.;  Take  him  and 
rear  him  up  for  that  God  whose  blessing,  whose  adoption 
thou  hast  brought  down  upon  him  in  Baptism."  So,  he  re- 
mained with  the  Priest  that  baptized  him. 

As  the  child  grew,  two  things  grew  side  by  side,  one  with 
the  other.  The  first  one  belonged  to  the  Irish  character,  and 
is  as  Irish  aB  it  could  be.  Secondly,  the  divine  grace  of 
God,  the  most  wonderful.  We  can  scarcely  reconcile  the 
two,  as  we  look  upon  that  beautiful  young  figure  that  rises 
up  before  us  in  the  pages  of  history ;  as  we  contemplate  his 
life.  He  grew  from  a  child  to  a  boy,  from  a  boy  to  a  yoimg 
man.  He  was  the  most  beautiful  youth  in  all  Ireland ;  tall 
above  all  other  men ;  perfectly  formed ;  with  the  lofty  fore- 
head of  the  king's  son ;  the  light  blue-grey  eye,  full  of  genius, 
but  full  of  temper ;  the  strong,  athletic  form,  delighting  in 
coursing  in  the  fields,  in  the  manly  exercises  of  the  strong 
young  man ;  a  beautiful  temperament,  full  of  imagination ; 
he  was  a  lover  of  poetry  and  of  music,  and  his  young  hands 
loved  to  tune  the  chords  of  the  ancient  Irish  harp,  and  then 
to  draw  from  them,  with  thrilling  grasp,  the  very  spirit  and 
soul  of  Celtic  music.  Full  of  talent  and  of  intellect,  with 
Irish  brains  in  his  head,  there  was  no  branch  of  knowledge 
or  of  science  that  was  unknown  to  him.  With  him,  to  look 
at  a  thing  was  to  know  it ;  he  did  not  require  to  study  it. 
But  he  was  also  full  of  pride;  full  of  passion.  No  man 
dared  to  contradict  him ;  his  temper  was  aroused  in  a  mo- 
ment ;  and  when  that  temper  was  aroused,  the  young  Irish- 
man did  not  stop  to  think  of  what  he  said  or  what  he  did. 
With  the  word  came  the  blow,  and  then  the  apology  when 
it  was  too  late.  The  very  soul  of  the  Saint,  when  he  looked 
at  anything,  decided  whether  it  was  right  or  wrong.  Full 
of  Celtic  obstinacy ;  full  of  pride,  side  by  side  with  a  heart 
as  soft  and  tender  as  that  of  a  young  woman.  If  he  saw  a 
])Oor  man  or  cripple  on  the  way-side,  in  feverish  misery,  his 
heart  seemed  to  break  in  pity  for  them ;  and  if  no  one  was 
around  to  help,  he  would  take  them  up  on  his  shoulders  and 
carry  them  to  his  house,  and  there  feed  them  and  clothe 
them.  His  was  the  full  Celtic  blood.  Noble,  gentle,  quick, 
irascible ;  full  of  character  and  determination  even  to  ob- 
stinacy. This  was  the  natural  character.  Yet,  strange  to 
say,  side  by  side  with  this,  and  whilst  thus  hindered  by  a 
thousand  imperfections,  there  was  the  most  wonderful  super- 


BT.   COLUMBKILLE.  231 

natural  reign  of  divine  graces ; — a  thorough  Celt,  a  thorough 
Irishman.  His  Angel  Guardian  appeared  to  him  when  he 
was  between  twelve  and  fourteen  years  of  age,  and  said  to 
him  :  "  Columba,  I  come  from  Heaven."  The  moment  Co- 
lumba  saw  him,  in  the  form  of  a  radiant  youth,  he  said  at 
once :  "  Are  all  the  Angels  in  Heaven  as  feir  as  you  are  ?  " 
The  Angel  answered :  **  They  are  all  as  fair,  and  many  more 
fair.  I  come  charged  by  the  Christ,  whom  you  love  so  dearly, 
to  -ask  you  what  gifts  you  desire  from  God."  Instantlj^the 
Irish  youth, — the  young  Irish  boy  said :  "  I  ask  from  God 
chastity  and  wisdom."  The  moment  he  said  the  word,  three 
Angels,  in  the  form  of  three  beautiful  maidens,  appeared  be- 
fore him.  One — ^the  fairest  of  all  of  them — put  her  hands 
around  his  neck.  The  Irish  boy  drew  back,  afraid.  "  Thou 
hast  refused  my  embrace,  Columba ;  thou  knowest  me  not ; 
I  am  the  Angel  of  divine  virtue;  'I  come  with  my  sisters  to 
remain  with  you  forever."  These  were  the  three  sisters, — 
Divine  virtue,  Divine  wisdom,  and  the  Divine  spirit  of 
prophecy, — who  came  to  the  child  as  a  boy ;  a  boy  full  of 
faults,  full  of  the  imperfections  of  the  Celtic  character ;  the 
same  imperfections  that  you  and  I  have ;  not  sitting  down 
and  being  prudent  and  qwet,  but  always  loving  a  contest ; 
always  loving  to  do  a  generous  thing,  and  to  do  it  on  the 
spur  of  the  mome^at ;  always  ready  to  turn  around  to  take 
up  a  slight  or  an  insult  before  it  is  offered.  Yet,  sidie  by 
side  with  this,  we  have  the  evidence,  in  the  life  of  the  Saint, 
of  the  other  portion  of  the  Celtic  character, — the  other 
great  virtue,  which,  with  all  its  faults,  the  Irish  character 
exhibits, — the  virtue  of  purity. 

Thus  it  was  most  natural  that  Columba  became  a  Monk 
and  was  an  obedient  priest.  He  gave  his  light  forever  to 
that  grand  Irish  monasticism  which  was  the  flower  and  the 
bloom  and  the  glory  of  Ireland  in  that  wonderful  sixth  cen- 
tury. The  Irish  Monks,  at  that  time,  were  the  most  learned 
as  well  as  the  most  holy  men  in  the  Catholic  Church.  Every- 
where their  virtue  was  known ; — in  every  nation  professing 
the  Catholic  faith.  Students  came  in  profusion  to  Ireland : 
yea ;  even  the  very  Pagan  nations  sent  their  children  to  Ire- 
land, to  the  grand  university  of  the  world,  there  to  learn 
every  highest,  science  and  art,  and,  above  all,  the  art  and  glo- 
rious sdence  of  loving  Christ  and  His  Church.  They  came  ; 
they  entered  the  mighty  schc>ols  of  Armagh,  the  Island  of 


232  IRELAND  AND  TEE  miSff. 

Arran,  on  the  western  coast ;  and  Lismore,  on  the  banks  of 
the  Blackwater.  In  a  word,  they  came  and  entered  the 
mighty  schools  that  covered  the  whole  face  of  Ireland ;  and 
the  old  historians  tell  us  that  it  was  considered  rather  a  poor 
effort  at  a  school  where  there  were  not,  at  least,  three  thou- 
sand students.  The  old  Irish  saintly  Monks,  in  their  history, 
tell  us  of  them  that  tiiey  cultivated  every  highest  art,  and, 
above  all,  the  art  of  music.  In  an  ancient  life  of  St.  Bridgid 
wqgread  that,  on  one  occasion,  she  went  into  the  King^s  palace, 
perhaps  at  Tara,  and  there  she  saw  a  harp  hanging  upon  the 
wall.  Turning  to  the  white-haired  and  venerable  minstrel, 
she  said  to  him  :  "  Harp  me  a  sonsr  on  thy  harp."  And  the 
old  man  took  down  his  harp  lovin|ly,  and  seating  himself,- 
while  the  young  Christian  virgin  sat  before  him, — in  melody, 
he  poured  forth  the  glories  of  God  and  the  glories  of  Ireland. 
So,  when  Columba  entered  the  monastery,  he  found  there 
every  highest  work  of  art  and  science  cultivated ;  but  he  found 
there,  also,  two  great  passions  that  were  always  burning  in  the 
heart  of  the  ancient  Irish  Monk.  And  these  were  an  over- 
powering love  for  Ireland,  and  a  love  for  Ireland's  poetry  and 
music.  The  young  Prince, — ^ardent, — full  of  courage, — who 
seemed  to  be  marked  out  far  moi;e  for  a  soldier,  a  sailor,  or 
a  captain  of  armies,  than  for  a  Monk, — no  sooner  put  on  the 
monastic  cowl,  than  he  elevated  his  soul  to  three  things,  viz. : 
— the  love  of  God's  divine  religion,  the  love  of  Ireland,  and 
the  cultivation  of  music  and  poetry.  No  hand  was  more 
skilfiil  to  sweep  the  chords  of  the  lyre ;  and  when  those  an- 
cient Monks  assembled,  the  old  chroniclers  tell  us  that  they 
loved  to  play  on  their  harps.  Even  when  they  came  to  the 
church  to  sing  the  divine  songs,  the  Psalms  of  David^  in 
the  Oflfice  they  were  saying  every  day ;  these  old  men 
chaunted  to  the  sound  of  the  harp ;  and  so  from  their  hands 
went  forth  the  accompanying  thnll  of  Erin's  music ;  while 
with  sweetest  voices  they  melodiously  sung  the  praises  of 
Almighty  God.  And  so  rich  and  grand  was  the  voice  of  the 
young  novice,  that  we  read,  when  he  was  an  old  man,  over 
sixty  years  of  age,  while  preaching  the  Gospel  to  the  Picts 
and  Scots, — ^he  would  stop  and  begin  to  sing  the  praises 
of  God  to  the  sound  of  lus  Irish  harp, — the  pagan  priests 
who  were  around,  who  did  not  want  to  let  him  preach  but 
were  interrupting  him, — who,  above  all  things,  did  not  want 
him  to  sing,  because  his  voice  had  a  kind  of  supernatural 


ST.   COLXTMBKILLE.  233 

power  that  drew  the  hearts  of  the  pagan  people  to  God, — 
they  raised  their  voices  and  shouted  in  order  to  drown  the 
voice  of  St.  Columba.  The  Irish  Saint  looked  around  upon 
them,  with  the  old  Celtic  fire  of  youth  in  his  aged  eyes ;  he 
pitched  the  highest  note  and  brought  out  from  the  harp  the 
strongest  chords,  chaunting  out  the  Psalms  of  David,  and 
the  praises  of  God  :  so  that  although  the  priests  roared  and 
bawled  until  they  were  hoarse,  the  voice  of  the  Saint  sounded 
above  them  all.  He  went  over  all  that  country,  into  the 
houses  of  the  people,  singing  the  glory  of  the  God  of  Heaven. 
Eveiything  went  calinly  and  quietly  with  Columba,  until, 
when  he  was  forty  years  of  age,  an  incident  happened  that 
gave  tone  to  his  whole  life,  although  it  broke  his  heart. 
When  the  Saint  was  forty  years  of  age,  he  heard  that  St. 
Finnian  possessed  a  valuable  copy  of  the  Scriptures, — the 
Book  of  Psalms.  St.  Columba  wanted  a  copy  of  this  book 
for  himself ;  and  he  went  to  St.  Finnian  and  begged  the  loan 
of  the  book  to  take  a  copy  of  it.  He  was  refused ;  the  book 
was  too  precious  to  be  trusted  to  him.  Then  he  asked  at 
least  to  be  allowed  to  go  into  the  church  where  the  book  was 
deposited;  and  there  he  spent  ni^t  after  night,  privately 
writing  out  a  clean  copy  of  it.  By  the  time  St.  Columba  had 
finished  his  copy,  somebody,  who  had  watched  him  at  the 
work,  went  and  told  St.  Finnian  that  the  young  man  had 
made  a  copy  of  his  Psalter.  The  moment  St.  Fiimian  heard 
of  it,  he  laid  claim  to  this  copy  as  belonging  to  him.  St. 
Columba  refused  to  give  it  up,  and  appealed  to  King  Der- 
mott,  the  Ard-righ  at  Tara.  The  King  called  his  counsel- 
lors together  ;  they  considered  the  matter,  and  passed  a  de- 
cree that  St.  Columba  should  give  up  the  copy,  because,  the 
original  belonging  to  St.  Finnian,  tiie  copy  was  only  bor- 
rowed from  it :  and  the  Irish  decree  began  with  the  words : 
"  Every  cow  has  a  right  to  her  own  calf."  Now,  mark  the 
action  of  Columba, — a  saint, — ^a  man  devoted  to  prayer  and 
fasting  aU  the  days  of  his  life — a  man  gifted  with  miraculous 
powers ;  and  yet,  under  all  that,  as  thorough  an  Irishman  as 
ever  lived.  The  moment  he  heard  that  the  King  had  re- 
solved on  giving  be<;k  the  precious  book,  he  reproached  him, 
saying :  '^  I  am  a  cousin  of  yours,  and  still  you  went  against 
me  I  "  He  put  the  clanship— the  **«AeflwiacAtw"-^upon^ 
him.  The  Kmg  said  he  could  not  help  it.  What  did  St. 
Columba  do  ?     He  took'  his  book  under  his  arm  and  went 


234  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH, 

away  to  Ulster,  to  raise  the  clan  of  O'Neil,  in  Tyrconnell. 
He  was  himself  the  son  of  their  king.  They  were  a  power- 
ful clan  in  the  country  ;  and  the  moment  they  heard  their 
kinsman's  voice,  they  rose  as  one  man ;  for  who  ever  yet 
asked  a  lot  of  Irishmen  to  get  up  a  row  and  was  disappointed  ? 
They  arose,  they  followed  their  kinsman  down  into  "West- 
meath.  There  they  met  King  Dermott  and  his  army ;  a  bat- 
tle was  the  consequence,  in  which  hundi^s  of  men  were 
slain ;  and  the  fair  plains  of  the  country  were  flooded  witli 
blood.  It  w;as  only  then  that  St.  Columba  perceived  the 
terrible  mistake  he  had  made.  Like  an  Irishman,  he  first 
had  the  fight  out,  and  then  he  began  to  reflect  upon  it  after- 
wards. 

Now,  at  this  time,  St.  Columba's  name  was  known  all 
over  Ireland,  for  the  wonderful  spirit  of  prophecy  that  was 
upon  him.  He  was  known  all  over  Ireland  as  a  very  angel 
of  God  for  his  purity.  He  was  already  the  founder  of  several 
famous  monastic  institutions.  In  Ireland  there  were  twelve 
large  monasteries,  counting  their  nionks  by  hundreds  and 
thousands,  who  looked  up  to  Columba  as  their  chief.  His 
prophecies  were  wonderfully  fulfilled,  almost  as  soon  as  ut- 
tered. His  sanctity  was  an  acknowledged  fact ;  and  yet  in 
the  face  of  all  this,  the  national  Celtic  character, — the  rash, 
quick  temper  of  the  proud  Irishman, — broke  out  in  him  so 
far  that  he  had  hundreds  of  his  countrymen  slain.  And  the 
next  day  after  the  battle,  he  was  on  his  knees  by  the  side  of 
his  confessor,  acknowledging  his  fault.  The  Bishops  assem- 
-bled  and  took  thought  over  the  matter ;  and  the  issue  of  it 
was  that  Columba,  with  all  his  sanctity,  was  excommuni- 
cated. As  for  the  book,  there  was  no  question ;  he  never  got 
it  back.  Strange  to  say,  my  friends,  that  very  book,  writ- 
ten by  St.  Columba's  own  hand,  remains,  and  is  known  to 
this  day  in  Ireland.  He  went  to  confess  with  great  sorrow  to 
an  aged  monk  named  Molaise.  The  Saint  was  broken-hearted 
for  what  he  had  done,  for  the  blood  that  had  been  shed,  and, 
if  you  will,  for  the  scandal  of  his  hot  temper.  So  he  had  to 
endure  and  to  accept  any  penance  that  would  be  put  upon 
him.  The  confessor  asked  him  this  question : — "  What  is 
the  strongest  earthly  love  you  have  in  your  heart  ?  "  And 
the  poor  penitent  answered — "  The  love  that  I  have  for  Ire- 
land; that  is  the  strongest  aflection  in  my  heart."  Then 
the  most  cruel  penance  was  put  upon  him, — ^that  he  was  to 


8T.    COLUMBKILLE.  235 

depart  from  Ireland,  never  to  see  her,  never  to  look  upon 
her  soil  again.  Sentence  passed,  the  man  fell  to  the  earth, 
as  if  the  hand  of  God  had  smitten  him ; — as  the  Saviour  fell 
under  His  cross:  it  was  more  than  he  could  bear.  Ris- 
ing up,  with  despairing  eyes,  Columba  looked  in  the  face  of 
the  terrible  confessor  to  whom  he  had  confessed  his  sins; 
then,  making  one  effort,  he  accepted  the  great  sacrifice,  and 
said ;  "Father,  what  you  have  said  shall  be  fulfilled."  Then 
he  wrote  a  letter  to  his  friends  in  Tyrconnell,  in  Ulster,  and 
he  said:  "My  fate  is  sealed;  my  doom  is  pronounced.  A  man 
has  told  me  that  I  must  exile  myself  from  Ireland ;  and  that 
man  I  recognize  as  an  angel  of  God,  and  I  must  go."  With 
breaking  heart  and  weeping  eyes  he  bade  a  last  farewell  to 
the  green  "  Island  of  Saints,"  and  went  to  an  island  among 
the  Hebrides,  on  the  coast  of  Scotland.  There,  amid  the 
mists  and  storms  of  that  inhospitable  region,  upon  a  bare 
rock,  out  from  the  mainland,  he  built  a  monastery ;  and 
there  he  founded  the  far-famed  school  of  lona. 

Then  began  the  second  grand  epoch  in  the  life  of  this  man, 
whom  God  had  determined  and  predestined  to  become  so 
great  a  Saint.  He  came  to  lona,  a  man,  a  prince,  a  Saint  of 
Ireland,  full  of  passion, — full  of  the  national  traits  of  his 
race, — full  of  the  love  of  God,  unstained,  unsullied  in  his 
virgin  mind  and  soul  as  any  Angel  before  the  throne  of  God. 
And  there  he  was  destined  to  remain  for  thirty-six  long 
years  in  constant  fasting,  in  unceasing  prayer,  until  the  di- 
vine grace,  descending  upon  him,  made  a  perfect  Saint  of 
him,  who  was  before  so  noble  a  specimen  of  the  Celtic  race: 

Now,  do  you  know  how  hard  it  is  to  be  an  exile?  Here 
is  an  account  given  by  one  of  the  greatest  writers  of  modem 
times.  He  tells  us  of  Columba's  love — the  love  that  he  re- 
tained for  Ireland ; — the  affectionate  tenderness  of  the  exile ; 
a  love  which  displayed  itself  in  the  songs  which  have  been  pre- 
served to  us.  It  is  beautiful.  He  goes  on  to  say,  that, 
amongst  other  things,  St.  Columbkille  lefb  behind  him  such 
words  as  these : — 

"  Death  in  faultless  Ireland  is  better  than  life  without  end  in  Albin. 
What  joy  to  fly  upon  the  white-crested  sea,  and  watch  the  waves 

break  upon  the  Irish  shore. 
What  joy  to  row  the  little  barque,  and  land  ui>on  the  whitening 

foam  of  the  Irish  shore ! 


236  IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRI8K 

Ah  1  how  my  boat  would  fly,  if  its  prow  were  turned  to  my  Irish 

oak  groves  I 
But  the  noble  sea  now  carries  me  only  to  Albin,— to  Albin,  the  land 

of  the  ravens.  ^  . 

My  foot  is  in  my  little  boat ;  but  my  sad  heart  ever  bleeds. 
There  is  a  gray  eye  that  ever  turns  to  Erin ; 
But  never  in  this  sad  life  shall  it  see  Erin  or  her  sons  and  daughters 

again. 
From  the  high  prow  I  look  over  the  ocean ;  great  tears  are  in  my 

gray  eyes,  as  I  turn  to  Erin ;  to  Erin,  where  the  song  of  the 

birds  is  so  sweet;    where  the  Monks  sing  like  i^e  birds; 

where  the  young  are  so  g^tle,  and  the  old  so  wise ;  where 

the  great  men  are  so  noble  to  look  upon,  and  the  women  so 

fair  to  wed.** 

In  another  place,  lie  says  to  one  who  was  returning  from 
his  Scottish  island  to  Ireland ; — 

"  Young  traveller,  carry  my  sorrows  with  thee ;  carry  them  to  Com- 

gall  of  eternal  light. 
Take  my  prayer  with  thee,  and  my  blessing ;  one  part  for  Ireland— 

seven  times  may  she  be  blessed ; — the  other  for  Albin. 
Carry  my  blessing  across  the  sea ;  cany  it  to  the  West.     My  heart 

is  broken  in  my  bosom. 
If  death  should  come  upon  me  suddenly,  it  will  be  because  of  the 

great  love  I  bear  the  Gael." 

That  was  the  love  of  Columbkille  for  Ireland  and  the 
Irish  people ;  it  was  the  master  passion  of  his  life.  What 
can  be  more  tender  than  the  message  that  he  gave  to  one  of 
his  Monks.  One  morning  he  called  to  him,  from  his  little 
cell  in  lona,  one  of  his -Irish  Monks,  his  faithful  companion 
in  exile.  He  said  to  him :  "  Brother,  go  out  and  stand  upon 
the  hill  near  the  east  shore.  After  you  are  there  a  while,  a 
bird  will  come  and  fall  at  your  feet,  with  weary  wings. 
Take  up  that  bird,  dear  brother,"  he  said,  "  and  feed  and 
care  for  her  gently;  restore  her  to  strength  again;  for 
that  bird  comes  from  Ireland.  Ah,  my  broken  heart !  that 
bird  will  fly  back  to  Ireland  again :  but  T  can  never  go 
back !  "  This  was  the  heart  of  the  man, — ^the  grand  passion 
of  his  life,  which  became  the  source  of  his  martyrdom.  Ex- 
ile from  Erin  was  to  him  the  bitter  penance  that  the  Priest 
of  God  put  upon  him,  after  the  great  indiscretion  and  sin  of 


8T.   COLUMBKILLE.  237 

his  life.  Yet  it  was  an  Irish  sin.  He  did  not  want  to  glory 
in  anything  wrong;  and  this  I  do  say,  if  it  was  a  great  Irish 
sin,  there  was  nothing  mean,  nothing  nasty  in  that  sin :  it 
was  the  sin  of  a  brave,  passionate  man.  He  felt  he  was  in- 
jured, and  he  called  upon  his  people,  and  bloodshed  followed 
upon  it.  It  was  the  act  of  an  impulsive  man.  Nothing  of 
vice  to  be  ashamed  of;  nothing  the  recollection  of  which 
could  bring  anything  but  a  manly  sorrow  to  his  heart. 

Now  began  a  great  period  of  his  life.  He  was  forty-two 
years  of  age  when  he  left  Ireland,  and  landed  on  the  little 
island  off  the  Western  coast  of  Scotland.  Here  his  Irish 
Monks  built  a  wooden  church  ;  and  here  they  lived,  in  the 
humblest  form  of  cells.  St.  Columba,  for  forty  years,  slept 
upon  the  bare  ground,  an  hour  or  two  out  of  the  twenty-four. 
Thus  he  lay -with  only  a  hard  rock  whereon  to  lay  his  head. 
This  island  on  which  the  Irish  Monks  landed  was  destined 
to  be  the  most  holy,  the  most  gloriously  historic  spot  in 
Western  Europe.  He  brought  Monks  from  Ireland  with 
him,  and  there,  upon  the  distant  shores  of  Scotland,  did  he 
find  a  people  divided  into  two  great  nations,  viz. : — the 
Irish,  who  had  emigrated  hundreds  of  years  before,  in  the 
very  time  of  St.  Patrick,  and  who  were  Christians,  having 
brought  their  Catholic  religion  with  them;  and  who  pos- 
sessed the  Southern  and  Western  portions  of  Scotland. 
But  the  Northern  and  Eastern  portions  of  the  land  were  in 
the  hands  of  another  nation,  the  bravest,  the  most  ter- 
rible, and  withal  the  most  savage  that  ever  the  Boman  le- 
gions encountered.  They  were  called  the  ancient  Picts.  So 
brave  were  they,  that  when  Julius  Caesar  had  conquered 
the  whole  of  England,  he  never  was  able  to  conquer  the 
Picts  and  warlike  savages  that  inhabited  Scotland.  As 
they  were  brave  to  resist  invasion,  so  were  they  also  brave 
with  an  infernal  bravery  in  resisting  the  Gospel.  Holy 
Saints  came  to  them  only  to  be  torn  to  pieces  and  slaugh- 
tered. The  hour  of  their  redemption  came  from  the  time 
when  St.  Columbkille  landed  on  the  island  of  lona.  He 
brought  a  large  colony  of  Irish  monks ;  and  his  first  mission 
was  to  his  own  Irish  people  settled  in  Scotland.  They  were 
governed  by  a  ruler  subject  to  the  King  of  Ireland.  Col- 
umbkille went  in  amongst  them,  not  to  preach  the  Gospel, — 
for  that  they  had  already  received, — but  to  preach  that 
which,  in  the  heart  and  on  the  lips  of  the  Irish  Priest,  is 


238  IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRISH. 

next  to  the  Gospel.  He  went  in  amongst  his  exiled  Irish 
brethren  to  preach  the  gospel  of  Irish  Nationality,  a,nd  of 
love  for  their  native  land.  He  spoke  to  them  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Bard  and  of  the  Poet,  of  the  ancient  glories 
of  Ireland.  He  told  them  that,  although  tbey  were  estab- 
lished in  a  foreign  land,  their  best  and  holiest  remembrance, 
their  grandest  and  noblest  influence,  was  the  recollection  of 
the  land  from  which  they  and  their  fathers  came.  He  chose 
one  of  their  princes  to  be  king.  He  banded  them  together 
into  a  kingdom ;  and  he  crowned  that  Irish  Prince  the  first 
King  of  Scotland.  And  that  Irish  colony  of  Dalriadian 
Scots,  as  they  were  called,  were  destined  to  conquer  the  ter- 
rible, savage  Picts.  And  the  first  man  that  reigned  over 
them  was  the  holy  Irish  Prince  Aidan. 

Well,  my  friends,  it  is  most  interesting  to  u'SHo  find  that 
the  very  day  that  St.  Columbkille  crowned  the  Scottish 
King,  he  made  this  speech  to  him : — "  Mark  my  words,"  he 
said,  "  O  King;  the  'day  may  come  when  you  and  your  chil- 
dren, after  you,  may  be  tempted  by  the  devil,  to  make  war 
upon  Ireland.  My  poor  Ireland" — he  said,  "the  land  of 
my  love,  the  land  of  my  race,  and  of  my  blood."  And  here 
are  th^  words  that  he  put  upon  that  king.  In  the  midst  of 
the  ceremony  of  the  coronation,  he  said  to  the  king  whom  he 
crowned : — "  Charge  your  sons,  and  let  them  charge  their 
grandchildren,  that  they  attempt  no  enterprise  against  my 
countrymen  and  my  kindred  in  Ireland,  the  land  of  God ;  or 
tlie  hand  of  God  will  weigh  heavily  upon  them ;  the  hands 
of  men  will  be  raised  against  them ;  and  the  victory  of  their 
enemies  will  be  sure  on  the  day  they  have  the  misfortune 
and  the  curse  of  turning  ^against  Ireland."  T^ere  was  the 
glorious  light  of  the  Irish  Priesthood  and  of  Irish  history  ; 
there  was  the  true  father  of  the  heroic  St.  Laurence  O'Toole, 
that  stood  in  the  gap  on  that  terrible  day,  when  no  man  in 
Ireland  seemed  to  have  heart  or  courage  enough  to  strike  a 
blow  in  the  invading  enemy's  face. 

Aldan  had  not  long  been  crowned,  when  the  Saxons,  who 
invaded  England, — that  is  to  say,,  the  country  that  was  south 
of  the  Grampian  Hills — invaded  Scotland  also.  The  King 
had  to  go  forth  to  do  battle  against  them ;  and  here,  again, 
we  find  our  ancient  Irish  Saint  coming  out.  Faithfiil  love 
for  his  race  and  coimtry,  which  had  moved  him  with  com- 
passion for  the  young  In&ti  Kingdom,  did  not  permit  him  to 


BT.    COLTJMBKILLE,  239 

remain  indifferent  to  the  wars  and  revolutions  wHch  were 
rife  at  the  time  of  the  Irish-Scots.  There  was  no  more 
marked  feature  in  his  character  than  his  constant,  his  com- 
passionate sympathy, — as  well  afber  as  before  his  removal  to 
lona, — :in  all  the  struggles  in  which  his  companions  and 
relatives  in  Ireland  were  so  often  engaged.  Nothing  was 
neater  to  his  heart  than  the  claims  of  his  kindred.  For 
that  reason  alone  he  occupied  himself,  without  ceasing,  in 
the  aflfairs  of  individuals  and  of  relatives.  "  This  man,  he 
would  say,  "is  of  my  race;  I  must  help  him.  It  is  my 
duty,  to  work  for  him,  because  he  is  of  the  same  stock  as 
myself.  This  other  man  is  a  relative  of  my  mother."  Then 
he  would  add,  speaking  to  his  Scottish  Monks  : — "  My 
friends,  they  are  my  kindred,  descended  from  the  O'Neils. 
See  them  fighting !  "  when  he  would  hear  of  a  victory.  Or, 
perhaps,  he  said  it  in  Heaven,  before  the  throne  of  God,  on 
the  day  when  Hugh  O'Neill  destroyed  the  English  army 
at  the  "  Yellow  Ford."  He  was  praying  one  day,  with 
his  favorite  companion,  a  Monk  named  Dermot ;  and  whilst 
they-  were  speaking  together,  jthe  Saint  said: — "Rise! 
O  Dermot ;  ring  the  bell,  and  call  the  Monks  to  pray."  The 
Monk  rang  the  bell^  and  all  the  other  Monks  of  the  Mon- 
astery came  around  their  Father.  Here  are  his  words : — 
"  Now,"  he  said,  "  let  us  pray  with  intelligence  and  fervor, 
for  our  people ;  for  King  ATdan,  who,  at  this  moment,  is  be- 
ginning his  battle  with  the  Barbarians."  They  prayed,  and, 
after  a  time,  Columba  said : — "  I  behold  the  Barbarians  fly. 
Aldan  is  victorious."  Who  were  the  Barbarians?  The 
Saxons  of  England, — the  Pagan  Saxons, — the  haters  of  reli- 
gion, and  of  his  Irish  people, — thQ  haters  of  Aidan,  the  Irish 
King,  and  Jiis  religion. 

Another  nation  lay  before  him ;  and  the  heart  of  the  Saint 
was  touched  for  them.  You  have  seen  what  he  did  for  his' 
own  countrymen  in  Scotland.  He  saw  in  the  northern  fast- 
nesses of  the  land  those  uncivilized,  savage,  pagan  Picts ;  the 
men  to  whom  no  missionary  was  ever  able  to  preach ;  the 
men  whom  no  preacher  dared  to  address.  And,  here  again, 
see  how  the  character  of  the  Saint  came  out.  He  arose  and 
took  with  him  a  few  of  his  Irish  Monks ;  and  they  travelled 
into  the  very  heart  of  the  country, — the  Highlands  of  Scot- 
land. He  went  in  order  to  preach  the  Gospel  of  Christ  to 
the  Picts.     Their  king  had  established  himself  in  a  mighty 


240  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

fortress,  and  his  pagan  priests  with  him.     St.  Columba  ax 

his  companions  were  noticed ;  and  when  from  the  towers  tl 

pagan  Picts  saw  the  brave  missionary, — the  magnificent  fori 

of  the  Irishman, — coming,  the  king  admired  his  manlinei 

and  his  princely  and  undaunted  courage.    He  saw  the  ligl 

of  the  sun  beaming  upon  his  grand  face,  and  he  loved  hii 

But  he  gave  orders  that  the  gates  of  the  fortress  shou] 

not  be  opened.     "  Tell  him,"  said  the  King,  "  that  no  ma 

shall  enter  here  as  a  guest  who  is  not  welcome ;  and  that 

III  he  attempts  to  preach  he  shall  die."   The  message  was  given 

but  Columba,  without  hesitation,  without  stopping  to  tal 

counsel,  without  one  reflection  of  prudence,  the  moment  I 

heard  that  the  King  said  he  should  not  come  in,  his  Iris 

i  blood  was  up;  and  it  seemed  to  him  there  was  no  reason  wh 

he  should  not  go  in.     He  went  straight  to  the  very  door  ( 

the  castle  and  dealt  it  a  mighty  blow  with  his  staff.     "  OpeUj 

he  said,  "  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  < 

the  Holy  Ghost."    Again  he  struck  it ;  and  the  mighty  gat( 

flew  open,  and  St.  Columbkille,  of  lona,  walked  in  like  a  coj 

queror.     Years  of  sorrow,  years  of  repentance,  years  of  pray  < 

i  and  of  fasting  had  passed  over  his  head ;  and  he  was  now  an  e 

I  derly  man,  beyond  the  prime  of  life ;  but  the  moment  opp( 

I  sition  came  to  him  in  a  just  cause,  that  moment  the  old  Iris 

II  blood  of  his  youth,  and  all  the  terrible  ardor  of  his  Celt] 

nature,  was  raised  within  him.     My  friends,  he  converte 

'I  the  Pictish  nation,  nearly  as  perfectly  as  Patrick  converte 

the  Irish.     He  left  the  impress  of  his  character  upon  them 

so  that  they  became  a  staunch,  loyal  and  true  Catholic  raci 

in  the  Hi^lands  of  Scotland ;    and  that  the  Highlandei 

of  Scotland  have  continued  to  be,  almost  to  the  present  hou 

There  are  villages  in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland  which  ha^ 

J  suffered  in  the  defence  of  their  faith  like  Ireland.     They  su 

fered  by  bad  landlords:  the  same  scourge  came  upon  them  ( 

English  Protestantism  and  bad  laws ;   but  the  tradition  ( 

Ireland's  Columba  was  with  them  ;  and  his  words  remaine 

with  them  like  a  blessing.     And  there  are  villages  in  Sco 

land  that  never  yet  lost  their  Catholic  faith,  through  wei 

or  through  woe. 

Now,  another  nation  lay  before  him.     Great  was  the  heai 
of  the  man  and  true.     He  saw  the  pagan  Saxons  of  Englan 
1^^  in  their  hundreds  of  thousands.     What  did  they  worship 

I  Their  worship  was  the  meanest  and  lowest  form  of  idolatry 


If 


mi 


BT.    COLUMBKILLE.  241 

tliey  had  not  the  grace  to  worship  the  sun,  like  the  Irish. 
They  worshipped  Thor,  the  god  of  the  Scandinavians ;  a  huge 
fellow,  with  goggle  eyes,  no  feet,  and  a  big  club  in  his  hands. 
They  were  Saxons.  St.  Columba  neither  loved  nor  liked 
them.  They  were  Saxons.  Perhaps  he,  being  a  prophet,  fore- 
saw that  they  should  be  the  "  scourge  of  God  "  to  the  land 
of  his  love.  They  were  Saxons.  They  had  assaulted  and  in- 
vaded the  land  of  his  own  people  in  Scotland,  and  the  king 
whom  he  had  crowned.  But  they  were  men;  they  had 
souls ;  and  he  loved  them  in  the  mighty  love  that  burned  in 
his  heart  for  the  Lord  and  Saviour  who  died  for  him.  So, 
accordingly,  we  find  that,  after  his  conversion  of  the  Picts, 
the  mighty  preacher  went  south,  and  with  the  aid  of  his 
monastic  brethren,  his  Irish  monks,  St.  Columbkille  con- 
verted all  the  Saxons  of  Northumbria  and  the  middle  por- 
tions of  England.  Badly  have  they  repaid  us ;  for  we  gave 
them  the  Faith,  and  they  have  endeavored  to  rob  us  of  that 
Faith.  We  gave  them,  through  our  great  St.  Columbkille, 
the  liberty  of  the  Angels  of  God ;  and  they  have  endeavored 
to  deprive  us  of  that  liberty  which  is  the  inheritance  and 
birthright  of  the  children  of  men.  We  gave  them  light ; 
and  they  have  endeavored  to  repay  us  with  darkness.  It  was 
the  Irish  Saint,  and  his  children  after  him,  who  succeded  in 
converting  them.  For,  though  St.  Augustine  came  to  preach 
the  Gospel  to  the  Saxons  of  England,  his  labors  were  con- 
fined to  the  south.  St.  Columbkille  and  his  children  had  al- 
ready converted  the  Saxons  of  the  north  of  England.  They 
were  the  true  apostles  of  England. 

And,  now,  old  age  was  upon  the  Saint.  He  was  approach- 
ing his  seventy. sixth  year;  and  we  read  two  things  of  him, 
namely, — that,  to  the  last  day  of  his  life  he  never  mitigated 
or  changed  his  austerities.  The  old  man  of  seventy-six  still 
lay  upon  the  damp  earth,  with  a  rock  for  his  pillow.  The 
old  man  of  seventy-six  still  fasted  every  day  of  his  life.  The 
old  man  of  seventy-six  seemed  to  have  a  heart  as  young,  as 
compassionate,  as  tender,  as  if  he  were  a  boy  of  fourteen. 
And  one  little  incident  shows  us  how  much  the  Irish  fire  was 
toned  down  in  him  by  the  sanctity  of  the  saint.  When  he 
Was  an  old  man,  the  great  feature  of  his  chai*acter  was  that  he 
still  continued,  as  hard  as  when  he  was  young,  the  holy  work 
to  which  he  was  devoted, — writing  a  copy  of  the  Sacred  Script- 
ures. The  great  passion  of  his  life  was  writing  books. 
11 


242  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRI8K 

There  was  no  printing  in  those  days  ;  and  he  went  on,  writ- 
ing books,  even  when  he  was  bent  to  the  earth  with  old  age 
and  austerities.  Yet  he  fired  up  into  the  ardor  of  the  young 
harpist'  as  he  took  the  Irish  harp,  and  with  his  aged  fingers 
swept  the  chords,  his  voice  pouring  forth  the  praises  of  Ire- 
land and  of  his  God.  We  read  that,  when  he  was  an  old 
man,  the  strangers  that  were  in  the  land,  were  in  the  habit 
of  coming  to  him  for  his  blessing.  And  one  day  a  man  came 
into  the  little  room  where  St.  Columba  was  writing ;  and  in. 
his  eagerness  to  get  the  Saint's  blessing,  he  rushed  with  such 
vehemence  to  where  the  Saint  was,  that  he  overturned  the 
ink-bottle  and  destroyed  the  whole  manuscript.  But  all  that 
the  old  Saint  did  was  to  take  him  and  embrace  him,  and  put 
his  arms  about  him,  and  say :  "  Have  patience,  my  s(mi  ;  be 
gentle,  and  do  not  be  in  such  a  hurry." 

He  was,  then,  seventy-six  years  of  age;  and  he  prayed 
that  he  might  die  at  Easter.  God  sent  an  Angel  to  tell  him 
that  his  prayer  was  granted.  Now,  mark  the  great  Irish 
heart  again.  The  moment  that. he  heard  his  prayer  was 
granted,  he  prayed  to  God  to  let  him  live  another  month ; 
for  he  said  to  his  Monks :  "  My  children,  I  prayed  that  I 
might  die  and  pass  my  Easter  in  Heaven.  God  said  He 
would  grant  my  prayer ;  but,  then,  I  thought  that  you  are 
after  fasting  through  a  long  Lent  upon  bread  and  water ; 
and  that  you  are  all  looking  forward  to  Easter  Sunday  as  a 
day  of  joy ;  and  if  I  died  on  that  day  it  would  be  a  sad  and 
sorrowful  day.  So  I  asked  my  God  to  put  it  oflf  another 
month."  The  month  passed.  It  was  Saturday  night ;  and 
Columba,  in  the  morning,  had  told  his  children,  the  Monks : 
"  This  night,  I  will  die  and  take  my  rest."  The  Monks  were 
accustomed  to  go  into  the  church  precisely  at  twelve  o'clock. 
The  bell  rang,  and  Columba  was  always  first  in  the  church, 
to  prayer.  When  he  was  not  studying,  he  went  before  the 
others  into  the  dark  church,  and  knelt  at  the  foot  of  the  al- 
tar. Dermot,  his  attendant,  his  faithful  man,  followed  the 
old  man,  and,  groping  about  in  the  church  for  him,  at  first, 
not  being  able  to  see  him,  exclaimed :  "  O  Father,  dear  Fa- 
ther, where  art  thou  ?  "  A  feeble  moan  soon  was  heard,  and 
he  came  to  where  the  Saint  lay.  The  other  Monks  came  in, 
and  brought  torches  in  their  hands ;  and  they  found  Columba 
stretched  out  dying ! — grasping  the  foot  of  the  altar ; — dy- 
ing under  the  very  eyes  of  that  Lord  and  God  whom  he 


8T,    COLUMBKILLE.  243 

loved  so  well ; — dying,  with  a  heart  long  since  broken  with 
love  for  that  Lord  and  for  the  dear  land  that  he  left  behind 
hiin.  They  lifted  him  up  ;  and,  with  his  dying  lips  he  said : 
"  Come  around  me,  that  I  may  give  you  my  last  blessing." 
He  lifted  his  aged  hand,  and,  before  the  sign  of  the  cross 
was  made,  the  hand  fell  by  his  side,  the  light  of  human  love 
departed  from  his  eye,  and  one  of  the  most  glorious  souls  of 
apostles  and  martyrs  that  ever  passed  into  Thy  Kingdom,  O 
Lord,  beheld  Thee,  and  entered  into  Thy  joy. 

This  was  our  old  Saint.  How  grand ;  how  great  is  his 
national  character  !  How  great  is  the  character  of  the  Saint 
in  his'  cell!  Well  does  the  eminent  French  philosopher  and 
writer.  Count  Montalembert,  sum  up  his  character  in  these 
beautiful  words: — "  One  loves  above  all  to  study  the  depths 
of  that  soul,  and  the  changes  that  had  taken  place  in  it^ 
since  his  youth.  At  the  beginning  of  his  life  he  was  vindic- 
tive, passionate,  bold ;  a  man  of  strife  ;  born  a  soldier,  rather 
than  a  Monk ;  so  that  even  in  his  lifetime,  he  was  invoked 
in  fight ;  and  when  the  Irish  were  fighting  their  battles,  they 
would  cry  out,  *  Columba,  pray  for  us ! '  And  his  soul  went 
out  from  his  cell  into  the  thick  of  the  fight  with  th^m.  He 
was  at  the  same  time  full  of  contradictions  and  contrasts ;  at 
once  tender  and  irritable,  rude  and  courteous,  ironical  and 
compassionate,  caressing  and  im[>erious,  grateful  and  revenge- 
*  ful,  led  by  pity  as  well  as  by  wrath,  ever  moved  by  generous 
passions,  and  among  all  passions  fired  to  the  very  end  of  his 
life  by  two  which  his  countrymen  understand  the  best, — the 
love  of  poetry  and  the  love  of  Ireland.  Little  inclined  to 
melancholy  when  he  had  once  surmounted  the  great  sorrow 
of  his  life,  which  was  his  exile ;  frank  and  loyal ;  original 
and  powerful  in  his  words  as  in  his  actions, — in  cloister  and 
mission  and  parliament, — ^on  land  and  on  sea, — in  Ire- 
land and  in  Scotland, — always  swayed  by  the  love  of  God 
and  of  his  neighbor,  whom  it  was  his  will  and  pleasure  to 
ser^'e  with  an  impassioned  uprightness; — such  was  Columba." 

Thus  full  of  contradictions,  that  were  ever  harmonized  by 
divine  grace,  he  lived  and  died  a  Saint,  who  is  the  glory  of 
the  Church  of  God,  and  who,  I  hope,  and  trust,  and  believe, 
will,  by  his  prayers,  yet  obtain  for  his  native  country  of  Ire- 
land, all  that  she  legitimately  desires  of  happiness,  of  free- 
dom, and  of  glory. 


"THE  NATIONAL  CHARACTEE  OF  THE 
IRISH  RACE,  AS  A  REFLECTION  OF  THE 
CATHOLIC  RELIGION." 

{Lecture  delivered  by  the   Very  Rev.  T.  N.  Burke,  O.  P.,  in  St. 
Oabrid's  Church,  New  T&rk,  June^,  187a) 

My  Friends — Every  nation,  every  race  on  the  face  of  the 
earth,  has  its  own  peculiar  characteristics,  its  sympathies 
and  antipathies,  its  notions  of  things,  its  line  of  conduct, 
and  so  on ;  all  of  which  go  to  make  up  wh^it  is  called  the 
national  character  of  a  people.  They  bear  the  impress  of 
the  race.  We  may  find  amongst  the  people  a  great  many 
individual  exceptions  to  the  national  character.  A  people, 
— as  a  race, — may  be  brave,  and,  yet,  we  may  find  a  coward 
amongst .  them ;  a  people, — as  a  race, — may  be  noted  for 
their  chastity,  and,  yet,  we  may  find  an  impure  man  amongst 
them  ;  a  people,  on  the  whole, — as  a  race,  or  a  nation — may 
be  remarkable  for  their  honesty,  and  yet  we  may  find  a  thief 
or  a  dishonest  man  amongst  them ;  they  may  be  ^remarkable 
for  their  fidelity,  yet  we  may  find  a  faithless  man  amongst 
them.  But  in  this,  as  in  everything  else,  the  exception  only 
strengthens  the  rule ;  and  the  man  who  is  unlike  his  race, 
stands  out  in  such  relief  amongst  them,  and  makes  himself 
so  remarkable  by  being  so  unlike  his  fellow-countrymen,  that 
his  deficiency  only  bidngs  out  the  more  strongly  the  virtues 
or  the  peculiarities  of  the  race  to  which  he  belongs. 

Now,  amongst  the  subjects  that  command  the  interest  of 
the  thinking  man  or  the  philosopher,  there  is  not  one  more 
interesting  than  the  study  of  national  character.  How 
marked  is  the  character  of  a  people ;  how  clearly  defined 
are  the  national  phenomena,  the  idiosyncrasies  of  a  race  or 
a  nation.  How  different  do  we  find  one  people  from  another. 
For  instance,  take  an  average  Frenchman  and  an  average 
German.  They  are  as  unlike  each  other  as  if  they  wera  not 
of  the  same  species.  The  Frenchman  is  quick,  impulsive, 
chivalrous;  ready  to  stand  up  and  fight  for  an  idea;  lofty 


NATIONAL  (mAItACTEB  OF  TEE  IB18H  RAGE.     245 

in  his  notions  of  things,  more  or  less  theoretical,  easily 
roused  to  anger,  and  as  easily  appeased  by  a  word  of  kind- 
ness. The  German,  on  the  other  hand,  is  cool,  ealm,  delib- 
erate ; — ^not  easily  roused  to  anger,  but,  if  aroused,  not  easily 
appeased ;  not  at  all  given  to  taking  up  ideas,  but  looking 
for  realities  ;  not  at  all  ready  to  risk  any  important  thing — 
not  even  a  dollar  of  his  means,  much  less  his  blood — for 
some  great  idea,  that  fills  the  minds  of  a  hundred  thousand 
Frenchmen,  and  drives  them  into  the  field.  Take,  again,  an 
Englishman  and  an  Irishman.  How  difierent  they  are.  The 
Irishman  is  open-mouthed,  open-minded,  freely  speaking 
whatever  he  has  in  him.  If  he  has  any  vice  in  him,  out  it 
comes  on  the  surface.  If  he  feels  angry,  he  cannot  hold  his 
tongue  :  but  out  com^s  the  expression  of  his  anger.  If  you 
ofiend  the  Englishman,  on  the  other  hand,  or  insult  him,  he 
will,  perhaps,  pass  it  over  for  the  time ;  but  he  will  remember 
it  to  j^ou  in  twenty  years  after.  If  he  wishes  to  drink,  he  locks 
himself  up,  takes  his  drink,  gets  drunk  in  his  room,  and  no- 
body is  the  wiser  for  it.  If  he  is  disappointed,  he  knows 
how  to  keep  it  to  himself.  If  he  has  a  quarrel  with  a  man, 
he  will  not  go  to  meet  him  in  open  fight ;  but  he  will  try  to 
get  behind  him  and  give  him  a  blow  from  behind.  I  say  this 
not  as  if  I  thought  well  of  this  character  or  that.  There  is 
a  great  deal  tiiat  is  noble,  manly,  and  magnificent  in  the  Eng- 
lish character.  It  is  the  fashion  amongst  Irishmen  to  talk 
as  though  there  is  nothing  good  in  the  English.  It  would 
be  bad  policy  for  us  to  believe  it ;  for  if  there  was  nothing 
good,  or  brave,  or  strong  in  them,  why  in  the  world  did  we 
let  th^n  overcome  us  ?  It  is  a  bad  thing  for  a  man  to  say 
that  his  enemy  is  a  coward,  because  he  is  making  light  of 
himself.  It  is  an  easy  thing  to  conquer  a  coward.  No ; 
there  is  much  that  is  brave,  strong,  and  magnificent  in  the 
English  character ;  but  still  it  is  thoroughly  distinct  from 
that  of -the  sister  island,  which  is  only  sixty  miles  aij^ay  (I 
wish  it  was  sixty  thousand) ! 

The  theme  on  which  I  have  come  to  address  you  to-night 
is — "  The  National  Character  of  the  Irish  Kace  as  a  Reflec- 
tion of  the  Catholic  Religion."  I  need  hardly  tell  you  that 
I  am  not  going  to  speak  of  irreligious  Irishmen ;  of  Irish- 
men who  give  up  their  faith  and  their  religion,  because,  as 
far  as  the  reflection  of  the  Irish  charactei'  is  concerned,  they 
are  not  Irishmen  «t  all.     Show  me  the  Irishman  that  does 


246  IRELAND  AND  THE  IBISH, 

not  believe  in  God,  and  does  not  believe  in  the  national  re- 
ligion, the  Catholicity  of  Ireland;  show  me  the  Irishman 
that  has  no  principle  of  Catholicity  in  him ;  and  I  will  say 
that,  as  far  as  the  history  of  our  race  and  nation  is  con- 
cerned, he  is  not  an  Irishman  at  all.  As  far  as  regards  the 
reflection  of  all  that,  we  know  he  is  not  a  fair  specimen  of 
the-  national  character  and  peculiarities  of  the  Irishman. 
Take  an  Irishman  without  religion,  and  he  will  be  as  big  a 
rogue  as  any  man  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  Take  an  Irish- 
man without  religion, — having  practically  denied  his  creed 
and  his  God  (for  he  may  not  have  denied  it  in  words)  ; — let 
him  go  out  among  a  strange  people  ;  and  he  will  gather  up  all 
their  vices  to  himself;  he  will  make  himself  the  very  worst 
amongst  them  ;  because  he  is  generally  a  quick-witted,  keen, 
sharp  fellow,  who  has  more  talent  than  the  people  among 
whom  he  lives ;  and  the  cod  sequence  is,  that  he  turns  all  his 
talent  and  shrewdness  in  the  direction  of  wickedness.  The 
more  intelligent  and  clever  a  blackguard  is,  the  greater  black- 
guard he  can  be.  Give  me,  therefore,  an  Irishman  without 
religion ;  and  if  he  goes  into  a  wild  country,  where  he  finds  it 
the  fashion  to  run  away  from  one's  wife,  he  will  run  away  from 
his,  and  will  marry  seven  other  wives  where  another  man 
would  but  marry  one.  Give  me  an  Irishman  without  relig- 
ion, and  if  he  goes  in  to  make  money,  he  will  be  more  close- 
fisted  than  a  Yankee-Jew  pedler.  He  would  not  give  a 
cent  to  king  or  country. 

But  it  is  not  of  such  Irishmen  that  I  speak.  I  come  here 
to  speak  of  the  national  character  of  our  race.  Now,  what 
does  this  race  mean  ?  It  means  a  people  that  for  fifteen  hun- 
dred years  have  been  Catholics  to  the  heart's  core.  It  means 
a  people  who  have  never  renounced  or  changed  the  pure  faith 
that  they  received  from  the  lips  and  from  the  hands  of  their 
great  Apostle,  St.  Patrick.  It  means  a  people  that  have 
never  consented  to  see  their  religion  outraged,  or  their  priest- 
hood and  worship  violated,  without  rising  up  and  striking 
a  quick  blow  in  defence  of  their  God  and  their  altars.  It 
means,  too,  a  people  who  have  their  faults.  Do  not  imagine, 
for  an  instant,  that  I  am  one  of  those  who  believe  that  every 
Irisliman  is  perfection ;  or  that  the  Irish  people  are  perfec- 
tion, and  that  I  da  not  see  their  faults.  I  see  them,  and  I 
know  them  well.  It  would  be  a  strange  thing  if,  after  twenty 
years  of  priesthood  among  my  people,  I  did  not  know  their 


NATIONAL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  IRISH  RACE.     247 

faults.  For  the  last  twenty  years  they  have  been  telling  me 
their  faults.  People  do  not  go  to  the  confessional  to  tell 
their  virtues,  but  to  relate  their  miseries,  their  woes,  their 
faults  and  shortcomings.  It  would  be  a  strange  thing  if  I 
did  not  know  their  faults, — rl,  in  whose  veins  runs  nothing 
but  pure  Irish  blood,  and  who  am  Irish  in  my  body,  my  soul, 
my  mind,  and  my  heart.  After  my  love  for  my  God  -and 
His  Church,  comes  my  love  for  my  country  and  my  people. 
I  tell  you  we  have  our  faults ;  we  are  not  without  them.  But 
I  will  assert  this, — that  the  very  faults  of  the  Irish  character 
have  been  touched  and  ennobled  by  the  Catholic  religion. 

Now,  I  ask  you  to  consider  the  Catholic  religion  as  re- 
flected in  the  history  of  the  Irish  race  in  times  past,  and  in 
our  people  of  to-day; — a  people  that  are  so  despised  and 
calumniated,  that  if  a  man  gets  drunk,  or  does  any  brutal 
act,  the  very  first  cry  is  :  "  Oh,  he  is  an  Irishman  !  "  But, 
when  you  come  to  see  this  so-called  "  Irishman,"  you  will, 
probably,  find  that  he  is  some  phlegmatic  German,  or  some 
cross-breed,  or  that  nobody  knows  whence  he  comes.  The 
Irish  race  has  been  so  calumniated  that  the  London  Times 
could  not  get  any  better  name  for  us  than  **  bog-trotters." 
And  why  ?  Because  the  English  took  the  good  land,  kept 
it  for  themselves,  and  left  only  the  bogs  for  the  Irishman. 
Put  a  gentleman  out  of  his  house,  take  his  good  clothes  off 
his  back,  and  put  beggar's  clothes  upon  him ;  throw  him  out 
into  the  street,  and  take  possession  of  his  house ;  and  you 
are  the  robber  for  all  this,  no  matter  how  you  may  turn 
round  and  say  :  "Ah,  you  dirty  beggar  !  "  The  Times  news- 
paper called  lis  **  bog-trotters ; "  but  the  Times  newspaper 
aud  the  writers  thereof  may  yet  live  to  see  the  day  when  the 
*•  bog-trotters  "  may  take  a  fancy  for  something  better  than 
the  bogs ;  when  Almighty  God  may  give  them  strength  to 
take  back  their  own. 

But,,  first  let  me  say,  there  may  be  here  to-night  some 
friends  of  ours,  who  are  not  Catholics.  There  may  be  some 
here  who  are  American-bom  citizens.  I  need  not  tell  you, 
brothers  of  my  blood  and  race  ;  but  for  them  it  is  necessary 
that  I  should  speak.  Our  Catholic  religion,  my  friends, 
puts  forth  prominently  in  her  belief  the  magnificent  figure 
of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  the  Mother  of  our  Saviour,  Christ. 
Our  Catholic  religion  teaches  us  that,  on  the  day  when 
Adam  fell,  every  child  of  Adam  fell  into  the  cesspool  of  sin 


248  IRELAKD  AND  THE  IRISH. 

with  bim,  save  and  except  one ;  and  that  one  was  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  the  Mother  of  God.  She  was  kept  pure,  that  she 
might  be  worthy  to  approach,  and  to  give  to  the  Eternal 
God  His  sacred  humanity.  She  was  kept  pure,  because  it 
was  written  in  the  prophecies,  **  Nothing  defiled  can  ever 
approach  God."  She  was  kept  pure,  because  she  was  to 
give  to  the  Eternal  God,  in  the  day  of  His  incarnation,  that 
blood  which  He  shed  upon  Calvary,  and  by  which  He  re* 
deemed  the  world.  That  blood  should  be  all  pure  which 
was  worthy  to  flow  in  the  veins  of  Christ.  Therefore  the 
woman  who  bore  Him  was  conceived  without  sin.  The 
Catholic  Church,  moreover,  holds  up  this  woman  as  the  very 
type  of  Christian  womanhood.  All  that  is  fair  and  beauti- 
ful in  woman  may  be  gathered  up  into  these  two  features ; 
namely,  the  perfect  purity  of  the  Virgin,  and  the  tender, 
magnificent,  and  loving  heart  of  the  mother.  There  is 
nothing  grander  than  virginity  ;  and  next  to  virginity  comes 
the  magnificence  of  the  maternity  of  the  Christian  mother ; — 
the  mother,  with  her  child  in  her  arms, — next  to  the  virgin, 
consecrated  to  God  and  kneeling  before  Christ, — is  the  most 
beautiful  thing  in  creation.  Our  race  depends  upon  her. 
Upon  her  purity  and  upon  her  sanctity  the  whole  future  of 
the  world  is  built  up.  The  English  Protestant  poet,Words- 
worth,  says  there  is  more  poetry,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
truth,  in  that  one  idea  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary,  as  the 
Catholic  Church  preaches  her, — namely,  the  woman  who 
combines  the  infinite  purity  of  the  virgin  with  the  love  of 
the  mother, — than  ever  was  written  by  the  pen  of  man. 

The  Catholic  Church  teaches  that  the  Virgin  of  virgins  is 
the  type  of  all  Christian  maidenhood,  in  her  purity,  and  of 
all  Christian  motherhood,  in  her  maternity.  She  alone 
brought  forth  the  greatest  man,  the  man  Jesus  Chiist.  She 
alone  brought  forth  the  Only  One  who  was  necessary  to  the 
world ;  without  whom  there  was  no  salvation,  and  np 
Heaven  for  man.  She  alone  brought  forth  the  Son  of  God. 
For,  the  human  and  the  divine  nature  joined  in  Him  were 
so  joined,  that  He  assumed  the  human  nature  into  a  divine 
nature  ;  and  the  Child  that  was  born  of  Mary  was  God.  St. 
Patrick  came  to  Ireland  fifteen  hundred  years  ago.  He 
came  with  the  adorable  Eucharist  in  one  hand,  holding  it  up 
to  the  people's  adoration  as  their  God.  He  came  with  the 
image  of  Mary  in  the  other  hand,  holding  it  up  to  the  peo- 


NATIONAL  mAkAGTEn  OF  TISE  iMim:  RACE.     M9 

pie's  veneration  as  tlieir  mother.  He  told  the  Irish  heart 
and  the  Irish  mind  the  beautiful  story  of  Mary's  relation  to 
God.  He  told  the  Irish  maiden  the  tale  of  her  purity. 
He  told  the  Irish  mother  the  tale  of  her  maternity.  And 
the  womanhood  of  Ireland  so  learned  the  lesson  from  St. 
Patrick, — receiving  the  blessing  that  came  from  his  lips, 
with  the  name  of  Mary, — and  have  so  continued  to  send 
that  blessing  and  lesson  down  to  their  daughters,  that  the 
Irish  maiden  has  become  the  type  of  purity  for  fifteen 
hundred  years,  and  the  Irish  mother  the  type  of  tenderness 
and  of  highest  love.  For,  in  Ireland  alone,  of  all  the 
countries  in  which  I  have  travelled,  do  we  find  the  truo  type 
of  womanhood.  I  have  seen  it  even  in  the  country-woman 
by  the  roadside,  with  her  infant  folded  in  her  arms,  as  she 
looked  down  with  fond,  maternal  look  upon  the  face  of  the 
babe,  the  fruit  of  her  own  womb.  The  Irish  mother  alone 
is  the  queen  of  her  husband's  heart, — tiie  woman  that  knows,. 
— come  weal  come  woe, — that  she  can  never  be  removed 
from  her  secure  position  as  wife  and  mother ; — the  woman 
who  knows  that,  come  weal  or  woe,  that  man's  heart  is  hers ; 
— the  woman  that  knows  that  her  love  for  that  man  is  conse- 
crated by  the  saciumental  seal  of  the  Catholic  Church ; — 
this  woman  alone,  I  must  say,  in  all  that  I  ever  met, 
displays,  by  some  supeniatural  grace,  the  virginal  expres- 
sion of  maiden  innocence,  blended  with  the  beautiful  expres- 
sion of  a  mother's  love. 

For  this  womanhood, — taking  for  its  type  the  Blessed 
Virgin  Mary, — the  Irish  Catholic  man  has  been  taught,  from 
his  earliest  infancy,  to  have  the  deepest  veneration,  respect, 
and  homage.  Going  back  into  history,  he  finds  that  Ireland 
has  produced  more  virgin  Saints  than  any  other  nation ;  that 
Ireland,  for  centuries,  was  peopled  with  monasteries  and 
convents  of  holy  nuns ;  that  tiie  traditions  of  sanctity  inau- 
gurated by  St.  Bridget,  at  Kildare,  passed  to  her  daughters ; 
and  to  this  day  it  seems  to  be  an  instinct  with  the  maiden- 
hood of  Ireland,  to  seek  the  sanctuary  and  the  service  of 
Christ  in  eveiy  land.  The  traditions  of  our  race  tell  us  of 
the  bravery  of  our  women ;  and  they  mention  the  name  of, 
but  one  woman,  in  the  long  roll  of  noble  Irisliwomen,  who 
brought  a  blush  to  her  country's  cheek.  Our  history  tells 
us  that  the  purity,  the  sanctity,  the  virtue  of  Irish  women 
were  the  pride  and  the  gloiy  of  Ireland  during  the  days  of 
11* 


250  IRELAND  ANBJTHE  IRISH. 

her  grandeur ;  the  consolation  and  sustaining  power  of  ^flr^ 
people  in  the  day  of  their  oppression  and  their  misery.  And, 
therefore,  the  very  Catholic  religion  that  made  the  woman  of 
Ireland  what  she  is,  has  made  the  men  of  Ireland  to  be  the 
most  reverential,  the  most  respectful,  and  the  most  faithful 
of  men  to  her  womanhood. 

Look  at  the  history  of  the  Irish  race  in  times  gone  by. 
Look  at  it  to-day.  What  crime,  oh,  my  countrymen !  equals 
the  crime  of  the  faithless  husband,  who  abandons  the  wife 
of  his  early  love?  What  crime  is  equal  to  that, — which 
(thank  God)  is  utterly  unknown  in  Ireland,  or  at  least  to 
every  Irishman  that  deserves  the  name, — by  which  a  husband 
is  enabled  to  cast  forth  and  to  desert  the  wife  of  his  bosom. 
According  to  English  law,  any  man  can  divorce  his  wife, 
if  he  only  trump  up  an  accusation  against  her,  and  sup- 
port it  by  false  witnesses.  I  was  in  Ireland  some  years 
.ago  when  that  law  was  passed;  and,  preaching  from  the 
pulpit  in  Dublin,  I  hurled  my  defiance  at  the  Government  of 
England.  I  told  them  that  the  Irish  people  would  never  ac- 
cept, never  obey  or  act  upon  any  such  infamous  and  anti- 
Christian  law; — that  no  Irishman  would  ever  acknowledge 
a  law  that  tells  him  he  can  put  away  the  wife  of  his  bosom. 
This  veneration  for  their  womanhood  is  proverbial  amongst 
the  Irish  race  and  the  Irish  people.  Never,  or  scarcely  ever, 
do  we  find  a  record  of  an  instance  of  its  violation.  And  of 
all  the  crimes  that  can  be  laid  to  the  charge  of  an  unfortunate 
sinner,  there  is  not  one  for  which  the  whole  nation  veils  its 
face  for  shame,  and  for  true  heart-break  and  desolation,  as 
when  this  unfortunate  crime  of  impurity  and  infidelity  is 
brought  home  to  the  Irish  woman  or  the  Irish  husband. 
Do  we  not  know  of  what  class  of  woman  was  the  mother 
that  reared  us  at  her  knee  ?  Are  we  not  familiar  with  that 
beautiful  image  that  rises  before  us,  of  the  woman  with  the 
silver  hair  and  the  sweet  voice ;  the  woman  with  the  old 
Spanish  beads  in  her  hand ;  the  woman  that  taught  us,  when 
we  were  yet  unable  to  appreciate  it,  the  sweet  tale  of  the 
love  of  Christ  for  Mary,  His  mother,  and  the  love  of  Mary 
for  her  child  ?  Do  we  not  all  know  the  devotion  of  our 
womanhood  and  of  our  manhood  to  that  type  of  all  purity 
and  of  all  gentleness,  the  Mother  of  God  ?  It  has  impressed 
itself  upon  our  race.  And  Henry  "VIII. , — when  he  came 
and  called  upon  Ireland  to  separate  from  the  See  of  BomOi — 


NATIONAL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  IRISH  RACK     251 

from  the  Rock  of  ages,  from  the  Chair  of  Peter,  from  the 
Successor  of  the  Apostles,  and,  through  Peter,  of  Christ 
Himiself — he  came  as  a  man  to  whom  no  Irishman  would 
listen.  He  came  to  Ireland  as  a  faithless  husband ;  as  the 
murderer  of  his  wife.  He  came  to  ask  the  Irish'^people  to 
spit  upon  the  image  of  Mary.  "No,"  they  answered,  in  the 
voice  of  the  nation-as  one  man ;  **  we  would  rather  die, — 
yea,  ten  thousand  times  rather  die,  than  give  up  the  Mother 
that  brought  forth  the  Son  of  God."  For  Mary  and  for 
Mary's  cause  Ireland  drew  the  sword.  And  never  was  a 
more  chivalrous  sword  drawn  from  its  scabbard  than  the 
sword  Ireland  drew  in  defence  of  the  religion  that  conse- 
crated the  Mother  of  Christ. 

The  third  great  feature  of  our  national  character,  my  friends, 
is  the  feature  of  national  virtue ;  and  I  hold  that  that  national 
virtue  is  derived  from,  and  has  been  strengthened  by,  the  na- 
tional religion  of  Ireland.  No  man  will  deny  to  an  Irishman, 
— no  matter  what  else  he  denies  him, — the  attribute  of  cour- 
age. He  may  be  a  drunkard ;  he  may  be  a  very  bad  man,  in- 
deed ;  he  may,  perhaps,  have  won  the  heart  of  some  young 
woman  only  to  break  it ;  he  may  be  false  to  a  great  many  obli- 
gations ;  but  put  him  on  the  battle-field,  with  a  musket  in  his 
hand ;  put  him  in  the  thick  of  the  fignt,  with  a  fixed  bayonet ; 
and,  my  faith  upon  it,  whatever  else  may  be  wanting,  he  will 
do  his  duty  there.  Never,  in  the  long  and  disastrous  history 
of  our  race,  did  the  sun  set  upon  the  day  that  beheld  an  Irish 
army  in  the  field,  victorious  or  not,  that  was  dishonored.  All 
Europe  is  covered  with  battle-fields  that  record  the  glory  of 
our  race  and  its  courage.  All  Europe,  in  every  tongue,  re- 
peats the  continued  story  of  Irish  prowess.  France,  Spain, 
Austria,  and  Italy  tell  the  tale  on  their  battle-fields ;  but  never 
have  they  been  able  to  say  that  an  Irishman  was  found  dis- 
honored upon  the  field  of  military  glory.  At  home,  it  has 
been  alleged,  they  were  bad  soldiers.  At  home,  it  has  been  al- 
leged, the  Irish  never  knew  how  to  fight.  Well,  it  is  the  say- 
ing of  a  man  who  denied  God, — the  Frenchman,  Voltaire. 
"  Is  it  not  strange,"  he  said,  "  that  a  people  who  are  able  to 
sweep  victorious  over  every  battle-field  abroad,  should  never 
be  able  to  fight  at  home  ?  "  He  lied  !  Who  fought  the  Dane 
for  three  hundred  years  ?  Who  met  him  in  every  glade,  in 
every  glen,  and  in  every  valley  in  the  land  ?  Who  shook 
him  oS*!  upon  the  plains  of  Cloutarf,  into  the  sea?    It  was 


252  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH, 

the  Irishman  at  home.     Who  was  it  that  defended  the  banks 
of  the  "  Boyne's  ill-fated  river,"  until  King  James  of  Eng- 
land was   obliged  to  cry  out, "  Oh,  spare  my  English  sub- 
jects !  for  God's  sake  don't  slaughter  them  so  !  "     Who  was 
it  that  defended  the  bridge  of  Athlone,  when  they  had  not  as 
much  as  a  square  inch  of  wall  to  shelter  them,  but  stood  upon 
the  banks  of  the  Shannon,  and  stemmed  the  whole  tide  of  the 
English  army,  until  they  crossed  the  river  and  got  at  them  be- 
hind ?     It  was  the  Irish  at  home.     Who  stood  three  times  in 
the  breaches  of  Limerick,  and  met  the  full  brunt  of  the  Eng- 
lish army, — the  best  soldiere  in  the  world, — repulsing  them 
in  the  midst  of  death  and  glory  and  victory  ?     Who  met 
them  three  times,  hurling  them  back,  and  sending  them  off 
like  whipped  hounds  ?     It  was  the  Irish  at  home.     And  it 
was  the  Irish  women — the  women  of  Limerick — who  stood 
shoulder  to  shoulder  with  the  men  on  the  ramparts,  and  drove 
back  the  Saxon  at  the  third  and  last  assault  upon  its  walls. 
This  is  all  history.     I  am  not  drawing  on  my  imagination. 
The  English  actually  came  with  a  flag  of  truce ;  and  they 
made  the  treaty  of  limerick,  and  signed  it  upon  the  "  Treaty 
Stone,"  because  they  w^ere  afraid  not  only  of  Sarsfield  and 
his  men,  but  they  were  afraid  of  the  strong,  modest,  pure- 
minded  women  of  Limerick,  fighting  in  defence  of  their  God 
and  their  country.     Now,  this  courage  comes  to  us  from  our 
religion.     What  was  it  that  animated  tlie  Irish  during  the 
three  hundred  years  of  Danish  invasion  ?     It  was  the  strength 
of  their  faith.     Every  man  believed  that,  in  battling  against 
the  Danes,  he  was  exposing  himself  in  the  best  cause  ;  and  if 
he  died  he  would  have  some  claim  to  a  martyr's  crown.     What 
thouands  of  Irish  martyrs  and  missionaries  there  were,  who 
strewed  every  battle-field  in  Ireland  during  those  three  hun- 
dred years  ?     The  Dane  came  to  make  war  upon. Christ  and 
upon  His  religion.     Ireland  defended  that  religion.      The 
Dane  conquered  in  England,  in  Scotland,  in  the  north  of 
France,  and  in  every  country  in  which  he  ever  put  his  foot. 
In  Ireland  alone,  when  he  assailed  the  Catholic  faith  or  the 
Christian  altar,  he  met  an  army  of  heroes,  because  they  were 
a  nation  of  martyrs.     And  he  was  eventually  routed,  though 
it  took  three  hundred  years  to  do  it. 

What  was  it  that  kept  up  the  spirit,  strengthened  the 
drooping  courage  of  our  down-trodden  and  persecuted  fore- 
£a,thers,  for  the  last  three  hundred  years,  when  to  be  a  Cath- 


NATIONAL  CHAnACTER  OF  THE  IRISH  RACE.     253 

olic  meant  dis^*ace  and  exile,  when  to  be  a  Catholic  priest 
meant  death,  when  for  a  Catholic  to  send  his  own  son  to 
school  for  education  meant  exile  and  confiscation  ?  What 
was  it  that  made  us  so  strong  and  courageous  that,  in  spite 
of  England,  we  were  Catholics,  we  educated  priests,  and  sent 
our  children  to  school  ?  It  was  our  glorious  faith.  It  was 
our  religion,  the  divine  principle  of  supreme  life  that  was  in 
us.  And,  therefore,  I  lay  claim  to  this,  the  great  secret  of 
that  courage  which  has  never  yet  failed  in  the  hour  of  danger ; 
which  has  never  been  found  wanting,  but  was  true  as  steel, 
whenever  the  enemy  had  to  be  met,  and  whenever  blood  had 
to  be  shed  in  a  just  and  noble  cause. 

Here,  again,  1  grant  you  that,  out  of  this  very  courage  of 
our  race  spring  certain  defects ;  just  as  we  see  that  fairies, 
ghosts,  and  superstitions  of  that  kind  may  even  spring  out 
of  the  exaggeration  of  our  faith.     I  grant  you  that  the  Irish- 
man is  a  little  too  pugnacious.     I  myself  have  seen  a  fellow 
in  Ireland  trailing  his  coat  after  him  through  the  streets  of 
Gal  way,  flourishing  his   stick,  and   asking  everybody  that 
passed,  as  a  special  favor,  if  they  would  only  be  kind  enough 
to  tread  on  the  tail  of  it !     But,  after  all,  just  as  we  see  tlMit 
there  are  some  beautiful  featui-es  attaching  to  their  supersti- 
tion, so  there  are  beautiful  features  attaching  to  their  courage, 
which  often  leads  them  to  make  a  fight  for  the  sake  of  the 
fight.     For  instance,  nothing  is  more  common  in  Ireland, 
when  a  row  is  going  on  at  a  fair, — when  sticks  are  seen  in  the 
air,  and  men  are  tumbling  about  on  every  side, — than  for  a 
quiet,  peaceable  farmer,  coming  along  widi  his  scythe  on  his 
shoulder,  to  throw  down  the  scythe,  quietly  take  off  his  coat, 
roll  it  up,  and  throw  it  on  the  roadside,  and  then  taking  his 
stick,  and  looking  for  a  moment  to  see  which  side  was  los- 
ing,— which  was  the  weaker  side, — to  rush  into  the  thick  of 
the  fight  and  smash  the  first  head  that  came  in  his  way. 
At  any  rate  it  is  a  comfort  to  think  that  he  had  not  the  in- 
stinct to  take  the  side  which  was  winning.     That  is  not  an 
Irishman's  way.     When  one  side  is  winning,  there  is  gener- 
ally little  fighting  shown,  as  the  other  side  want  to  run ;  but 
the  ones  I  describe  go  in  for  fighting  and  not  running. 

The  average  Irishman,  wherever  he  is,  has  a  great  many 
faults  like  other  men :  but  if  you  look  upon  them  with  an 
unprejudiced  eye,  you  will  agree  with  me  that  they  are  faults 
of  a  peculiar  natare ;  and  l^ey  are  all  on  the  surface.    There 


254  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

are  two  classes  of  crimes  that  a  man  may  commit.  There 
are  crimes  that  are  characterized  by  meanness,  by  grasping 
avarice,  filthy  lust,  and  defiling  impurity.  There  are  crimes 
that  are  committed  in  secret ;  and  the  man,  all  the  time, 
wears  a  smiling  face  and  a  fair  exterior.  There  are  crimes 
over  which  the  cloak  of  hypocrisy  is  thrown,  and  which  are 
concealed  from  public  knowledge.  Then  there  are  crimes  of 
another  character,  committed  from  impulse,  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment,  not  involving  a  deep  dishonor,  although,  per- 
haps, involving  great  disgrace,  but  which  the  unfortunate 
culprit  did  not  know  how  to  conceal  or  how  to  throw  the 
mantle  of  hypocrisy  around  to  hide  them  from  the  eye  of 
the  world.  Now  of  these  two  classes  of  crime,  the  Irish- 
man generally  falls  into  the  second, — the  open  ones,  the 
things  that  everybody  sees  and  knows.  "  If  he  gets  drunk,  he 
does  not  lock  himself  up  in  his  room,  in  order  to  have  a 
quiet  bout  of  two  or  three  days,  ending  in  ddirivmn  tremens. 
No.  He  goes  out  to  the  public-house,  invites  a  few  friends 
around  him  and  gets  drunk  in  company.  If  he  has  a  grudge 
against  a  man,  he  will  not  dog  his  steps  in  the  dark,  with  a 
knife  or  pistol,  but  will  go  and  smash  that  man's  head  in 
open  day,  and  in  the  street,  in  fair  fight. 

There  are  some  classes  of  crimes  utterly  unknown  in  Ire- 
land. Ireland  produces  no  female  criminals.  That  is  a 
strong  assertion.  Irishwomen,  at  home  in  the  old  country, 
never  commit  crime  of  any  kind.  You  may  tell  me  I  am 
saying  too  much  for  them ;  but  I  am  saying  what  I  know  to 
be  true.  Look  at  our  criminal  annals.  Look  at  the  records 
of  crime  in  Ireland,  and  where  do  you  find  a  female  criminal  ? 
Where  do  you  ever  see  a  female  in  the  criminal  dock,  under 
sentence  of  death,  or  a  woman  in  Ireland  accused  of  some 
dreadful,  hidden  sin,  or  of  murder  ?  Never.  There  is  no 
such  thing  known.  Nobody  ever  dreamed  of  such  a  thing. 
Again,  there  is  another  class  of  crimes  that  are  not  found  in 
Ireland  at  all.  There  is  a  crime  which  is  very  popular  in 
England,  and  it  is  called  garoting.  Let  me  explain  it. 
Two  or  three  fellows  stand  at  a  comer  of  a  street,  by  which 
a  decent  man  has  to  pass.  Presently  they  hear  him  com- 
ing. They  walk  up  softly  behind  him,  and  one  puts  his 
arm  around  his  neck  and  half  chokes  him  to  death,  while 
the  others,  after  he  is  insensible,  take  the  money  out  of  his 
pockets,  and  leave  him  more  dead  than  alive.     This  iB  called 


NATIONAL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  IRISH  RACE.     255 

garoting.  Don't  you  perceive  the  meaning  of  it?  They 
half  strangle  a  man  in  order  to  get  the  few  pennies  he  may 
have  in  his  pockets,  or  his  watch.  The  meanness  of  it  is,  that 
they  attack  him  from  behind.  For  the  last  ten  or  twelve 
years  this  crime  has  been  very  popular  in  the  English  cities. 
It  was  never  heard  of  in  Irelaiid  until  we  were  told  by  the 
Irish  papers  that,  a  short  time  since,  two  respectable  gentle- 
men were  garoted  in  the  streets  of  Dublin ;  at  which  the 
people  were  much  frightened.  But  what  did  it  turn  out  to 
be  ?  A  lot  of  Englishmen  came  over  from  London  to  try 
their  hands  there,  and  were  captured  at  their  vile  work. 
Look  at  the  records  of  the  criminal  courts  in  Ireland.  I 
have  been  examining  them  at  the  various  assizes.  You 
scarcely  ever  find  a  man  placed  in  the  dock  to  be  tried  for 
robbery,  for  mere  plundering,  for  stealing,  or  for  attacking  a 
man  and  taking  his  money.  So  sure  as  a  man  is  tried  for 
attacking  a  man  in  Ireland,  you  will  find  that  it  was  for 
some  grudge  he  had  against  him,  and  that  he  went  out  to 
fight  him.  You  will  fiLd  that  it  was  some  injury  he  receiv- 
ed, and  he  wanted  to  avenge  it  promptly  and  quickly.  You 
will  find  it  was  some  faction  fight  or  other,  in  which  there 
was  pluck ;  not  like  the  dirty  sneaking  robber  that  would 
knock  a  man  down  in  order  to  take  his  watch. 

But  there  are  crimes.  There  are  murders ;  and  they  are 
to  be  deplored.  We  preach  to  our  people,  and  ask  them  for 
Grod's  love  not  to  do  it.  A  landlord  is  sometimes  shot  down. 
I  remember  detailing  a  case  of  an  Irish  tenant,  and  how  he 
was  ti^e&tedj  to  an  English  gentleman  whom  I  met  in  a  rail- 
way carriage.  He  said  to  me,  "  You  are  a  priest  ?  "  "  Yes, 
sir,"  said  I,  "  I  am."  "  You  are  an  Irish  priest  ?  "  "  Most 
certainly."  "  Well,  now,  with  all  the  influence  that  the 
priests  have  in  Ireland,  why  do  you  not  try  to  keep  your 
people  from  murdering  each  other  in  that  dreadful  way? 
Just  fancy,  you  know,  murdering  a  landlord  because  he  is  a 
landlord !  "  And  he  went  on  in  that  strain  for  some  time. 
I  said,  "  Look  here,  sir ;  here  is  a  case  that  I  met  with  last 
week;  and  I  will  give  it  to  you  just  as  it  happened,  and 
will  vouch  for  its  truth."  I  told  him  of'a  man  who  did  not 
owe  a  penny  of  rent ;  who  had  drained  a  piece  of  bog  which 
he  held  at  thirty  shillings.  He  had  cultivated  it  at  consid- 
erable labor  and  expense.  The  landlord  came  and  told  him 
he  must  give  it  up.    .He  asked  where  he  was  to  put  his  wife 


256  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

and  children.  The  landlord  told  him  he  did  not  care ; — that 
he  must  leave  the  house  and  give  it  up.  The  tenant  re- 
plied— "  I  have  made  this  place  worth  a  great  deal.  I  have 
put  my  labor  and  capital  into  it.  I  hold  it  under  a  rent  of 
thirty  shillings ;  but  I  am  willing  to  give  you  anything  that 
any  other  man  will  give  you."  "  Ko,"  said  the  landlord ; 
"  whoever  gets  it,  you  shall  not  havQ  it !  "  To  my  surprise, 
tliis  English  gentleman  said — "  And  did  not  your  friend 
shoofc  the  landlord  ?  "  I  said :  "  No,  sir,  he  did  not ;  he  took 
his  wife  and  children  to  the  next  town,  and  is  living  there 
in  poverty."  Said  the  gentleman — **  It  is  a  very  strange 
thing  he  did  not  shoot  the  landlord  :  for,  by  this  and  by  thai, 
I  would  have  shot  him  myself !  " 

Now,  God  forbid  that  I  should  justify  these  offences.  No ; 
the  very  men  who  do  these  things  do  not  justify  them,  or 
themselves  either.  They  are  heart-broken  afterwards,  when 
they  see  the'  evil  they  have  done.  On  the  spur  of  the  mo- 
ment, when  they  see  their  most  sacred  rights  trampled  upoli, 
and  they  are  not  allowed  to  live  on  the  land  they  have 
tilled,  these  crimes  are  committed.  But,  my  friends,  the 
Irishman's  crimes  are  on  the  surface.  One  thing  is  certain, 
that  if  there  is  anything  bad  in  the  man,  out  it  comes.  You 
need  not  be  a  bit  afraid  that  he  will  go  behind  the  door  to 
do  it.  He  will  come  out  and  say  anything  that  he  has  got 
to  say.  It  is  a  bad  thing,  of  course,  to  commit  sin  at  any 
time.  But  I  may  say,  if  we  are  to  have  sins,  give  me  the 
sins  above  board,  not  the  sneaking  sin  of  the  garoter,  not 
the  sin  of  the  man  who  locks  himself  up  to  drink,  not  the 
vile  sins  of  the  men  who  are  leading  impure  lives,  endeavor- 
ing all  the  time  to  make  things  as  nice  and  fair  to  the  pub- 
lic as  possible. 

Now,  that  very  faculty  and  propensity  of  our  i^ational 
chai-acter — to  be  above  board,  and  to  say,  right  out,  what- 
ever is  to  be  said, — comes  from  the  Catholic  religion.  The 
doctrine  of  the  confessional  teaches  a  man  that  he  is  respon- 
sible to  God,  and  that,  compared  with  that  responsibility, 
the  responsibility  to  his  fellow-men  is  nothing.  The  Cath- 
olic religion  teaches  a  man  that  if  he  com^iit  a  sin,  no  mat- 
ter how  hidden  it  is,  it  must  come  out  in  confession;  he 
must  bring  it  to  the  sui-face,  and  lay  it  down  there,  with 
shame  and  sorrow,  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross.  The  Catholic 
religion  teaches  a  man  that  there  is  a  far  higher  standard  and 


NATIONAL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  IRISH  RACE,     25T 

a  more  dreadful  judgment  than  that  of  society ; — that  God 
sees  him,  even  in  the  darkness  of  the  night ;  that  God 
watches  him  closely  everywhere ;  and  that  it  is  a  very  little 
matter  to  a  man  what  his  associates  may  think  of  him  if  God 
has  reason  to  think  higlily  of  him.  Therefore  it  is  that  this 
very  doctrine  engenders  a  certain  kind  of  contempt  for  the 
world's  opinion.  The  Protestant  man  has  no  other  tribunal 
than  society.  He  is  afraid  of  his  life  as  to  what  his  fellow- 
men  will  think  of  him  and  of  the  j  udgment  they  will  pass  upon 
him.  He  is  never  taught  by  his  religion  to  bring  himself 
and  his  sin  before  a  higher  tribunal.  He  never  has  be«i 
taught  to  speak  his  sins  out.  He  has  never  been  taught  to 
give  the  evil  that  is  in  him  shape  and  form  in  the  words  of 
confession.  The  most  he  has  been  taught  is  to  go  now  and 
then  to  the  Lord  and  say  :  "  O  Lord,  I  am  a  sinner !  We 
are  all  sinners  t  "  That  is  very  easily  said.  But  a  Catholic 
i^  obliged  to  come  and  say :  "  On  such  a  day  I  stole  ten  dol- 
lars from  a  man ;  that  very  evening  I  used  some  of  that  ten 
dollars,  and  committed  dreadful  sins — such  and  such  things. 
Also,  that  on  such  and  such  a  morning  I  went  out  without 
saying  my  prayers,  or  bending  my  knee  to  God.  The  very 
first  man  that  I  m^t,  I  told  him  a  lie  about  a  fellow-laborer. 
T  told  him  a  mean,  dirty  lie."  Now,  you  see  it  is  quite  a 
different  thing  when  you  have  to  shape  and  form  each  indi- 
vidual sin,  to  look  it  in  the  face,  say  are  you  ashamed  of  it, 
and  then  lay  it  down  at  the  feet  of  our  Lord,  breathing  it 
into  the  ear  of  your  fellow-man ; — quite  another  thing  from 
that  sort  of  Protestant  confession,  which  says,  "  O  Lord,  we 
are  all  sinners !  "  The  Catholic  Church  enforces  this  doc- 
trine of  confession,  making  the  man  guilty  of  sin  look  into 
himself,  bring  himself  out,  and  lay  himself  down  in  all  his 
ulcerous  sores  and  spiritual  deformity  and  filth  at  the  feet  of 
Christ.  It  teaches  a  man  that  the  opinion  of  the  world  is 
not  to  be  valued ;  that  he  need  not  care  what  men  think  of 
him  if  he  knows  that  he  is  right  before  God.  What  profit 
would  it  be  to  me  if  you  thought  something  I  had  done  was 
blameless  and  praiseworthy,  if  I  knew  in  my  heart  that  it 
was  sinful  and  wrong  ? — what  consolation  would  it  be  to  me  ? 
I  declare  to  you,  as  an  Irishman  and  a  Catholic,  that  if  I  had 
any  such  thing  in  my  heart  now,  it  would  be  a  positive  re- 
lief to  throw  it  out  before  you  all. 

Such,  my  friends,  is  the  Irish  character ;  and  I  thiidk  in 


258  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISK 

tliese  salient  traits  I  have  not  exaggerated  it.  I  did  not 
come  here  to  flatter,  nor  did  I  come  here  to  exaggerate  the 
virtues  of  Irishmen ;  but  I  think  that  you  will  all  recognize 
that  there  is  a  reality  in  these  traits  that  I  have  put  before*^ 
you.  You  see  them  in  the  men  we  meet  every  day.  This 
is  the  kind  of  man  we  have  to  deal  with,  whenever  we  meet 
a  thorough  Irishman. 

Now,  is  there  not  something  grand  and  noble  in  kll  this  ? 
Is  there  not  something  magnificent  in  the  power  of  mind 
that  is  able  to  realize  the  unseen  things  of  God  ?  I  know 
nothing  more  magnificent  than  the  Catholic  man  bowing 
down  before  the  blessed  Eucharist.  I  admire  the  man^s 
power  of  mind.  I  say  to  myself,  "  what  a  magnificent  in- 
telligence is  there,  that  is  able  so  easily  to  rise  above  the 
mere  evidence  of  the  senses,  and  to  realize  the  hidden  God 
on  the  altar !  "  I  admire  the  magnificent  religion  of  that 
man,  guided  by  faith,  that  is  able  to  thrill  him  with  fear  and 
love.  I  ask  you,  if  the  Blessed  Sacrament  were  there  on  the 
altar  this  evening,  do  you  imagine  that  I  could  speak  to  you 
as  I  have  done  ?  Why  I  I  would  be  afraid  of  my  life  to 
make  my  jokes  and  make  you  laugh.  If  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment were  exposed  there,  is  there  one  among  you  who  would 
not  have  a  feeling  of  reverence  that  you  have  not  now,  as  if 
you  saw  the  Saviour  with  His  hand  uplifted  before  you  ? 
Is  not  this  grand  ?  Is  it  not  a  noble  trait  of  mind,  this 
Irish  faculty, — ^this  Catholic  faculty,  if  you  will, — of  realiz- 
ing things  we  never  saw  ? 

Again,  is  it  not  grand  to  have  that  ve^;ieration,  that  re- 
spect and  that  homage  for  holy  purity,  as  reflected  particu- 
larly in  the  chaste  Irish  Catholic  woman  and  mother,  wher- 
ever she  is  ?  Do  not  imagine  that  I  mean  for  an  instant  to 
say  that  these  virtues  do  not  exist  outside  the  Church,  and, 
especially,  this  virtue  of  purity.  I  honor  every  pure-minded 
woman  everywhere ;  for  I  am  willing  to  believe  that  in  all 
beams  the  purity  of  the  Virgin  and  Mother.  But,  this  I  do 
say ;  Torn  sure  of  it  in.  my  Irish  countrywomen.  Is  it  not 
grand  to  see  the  homage  that  our  race  has  paid  for  fifteen 
hundred  years  to  the  Catholic  expression  of  purity  in  maid 
and  mother !  Is  not  this  national  courage  of  Ireland  grand 
and  magnificent ! — a  courage  that  is  invincible,  that  has 
never  been  crushed  !  This  courage  has  kept  alive  for  eight 
hundred  years,  the  belief  that  we  are  a  nation,  and  we  shall 


NATIONAL  OHABACTEB  OF  THE  IBI8S  RACE,     259 

be  a  nation  unto  the  end  of  time.  I  can  imagine  Ireland 
crushed  to  the  dust ;  but  I  can  never  imagine  this  nation 
speaking  to  England,  and  saying :  "  I  will  be  a  province  or 
anything  you  like ;  only  give  me  leave  to  live,  and  take  off 
this  horrible  persecution  from  me.  Give  me  an  acre  of  land, 
and  I  will  be  called  anything  you  like — *  West  Britain '  or 
some  such  name.  We  will  be  like  the  Scotch  (who  once  had 
such  a  glorious  nationality,  and  have  none  now)."  Crush 
and  trample  on  Ireland  as  you  will ;  to  the  last  day  of  the 
world's  history  Ireland  shall  be  a  nation  in  spite  of  all.  Is 
not  this  grand !  And  I  say  that  the  soul  of  Ireland's  na- 
tionality is  Ireland's  religion.  I  say  that  every  Irishman 
that  does  not  love  his  nationality  is  not  worthy  of  his  reli- 
gion. And  in  proportion  as  he  loves  his  religion  with  all 
his  heart  and  soul,  in  the  same  proportion  will  he  feel  the 
strong  Irish  traits  of  his  race  and  his  nation. 

Is  not  also  their  feeling  of  reverence  for  the  dead  a  beau- 
tiful trait  ?  There  is  nothing  more  distasteful  than  to  see 
one  from  whom  those  around  him  received  the  blessings  of 
education,  the  means  of  support,  and  perhaps  a  handsome 
fortune,  buried  and  forgotten.  How  grand  is  the  memory 
that  cherishes  the  dead  !  that  makes  them  present  in  their 
absence ;  that  follows  them  upon  the  wings  of  prayer  into 
the  tomb  and  beyond  it,  and  cares  as  much  for  them  after 
their  death  as  before. 

Finally,  is  it  not  a  grand  thing  in  our  national  charaoi^er, 
that,  whatever  vices  we  have — and  the  Lord  knows  we  have 
a  great  many — ^t^ey  are  all  on  the  surface  ?  There  is  no 
hypocrisy  about  it.  If  an  Irishman  is  a  little  worse  for 
liquor,  everybody  knows  it.  In  England  they  take  advan- 
tage of  this  openness  of  character.  Everybody  who  has 
had  a  little  something  to  di'ink  is  pointed  out  with — "  There 
is  one  of  them  again ;  look  at  him !  "  And  this  is,  perhaps, 
said  by  a  fellow  that  locks  himself  up  in  his  house,  gets 
drunk  for  a  week,  and  nobody  is  the  wiser  for  it.  He  would 
drink  the  poor  Irishman  blind.  Since  I  have  been  in  New 
York  I  have  got  anonymous  letters  from  people  giving  ex- 
tracts from  newspapers,  detailing  a  row  in  a  saloon,  where 
an  Irishman  broke  another  one's  head ;  and  I  was  asked  if 
these  were  the  people  I  was  glorifying,  and  whether  they 
were  the  countrymen  I  was  so  proud  of.  I  am  free  to  say 
I  am  proud  of  them ;  but  not  in  their  drunkenness  and  sin. 


260  lEBLAND  AND  TEE  IRIBK 

God  forbid  !  But  I  say  that  their  dninkeimess  and  sin  are 
all  on  the  surface,  which  every  man  can  see  for  himself.  It 
is  all  before  God  and  man.  At  least,  I  am  proud  of  them 
in  this,  that  they  do  not  hide  their  shortcomings,  and  put 
on  a  smiling  face ;  like  a  fine-looking  pear  with  a  rotten 
core,  that  has  been  lying  in  the  sun  under  the  tree. 

And  now,  my  friends,  I  think  I  have  said  enough  to  war- 
rant me  in  congratulating  you  and  myself  upon  our  religion ; 
that  we  are  Catholics,  We  come  of  a  race  of  Catholic  mar- 
tyrs ;  we  are  the  descendants  of  Catholic  heroes  ;  we  are  the 
descendants  of  men  who  fought,  and  who  knew  how  to  fight, 
for  their  country  and  for  their  religion.  Although  we  have 
cast  our  lot  in  a  far-distant  land,  we  are  still  Irishmen.  And 
when  you  or  your  descendants  have  been  in  America  five  hun- 
dred years, — in  Australia,  or  any  other  country,  even  to,  the 
end  of  time, — the  best  drop  of  blood  in  your  veins  will  be 
the  drop  of  your  Irish  blood;  the  best,  purest,  grandest, 
and  highest  sentiment  that  will  ever  throb  in  your  hearts 
will  be  your  love  for  the  Catholic  religion  and  for  the  great 
Catholic  country  from  which  you  have  come.  Therefore,  I 
ask  you  to  remember  that  both  that  religion  and  that  coun- 
try have  their  eyes  upon  you.  Tiie  Catholic  Church  asks 
you  to  be  her  missionaries  in  this  great  new  country.  The 
Catholic  Church  asks  the  rising  generation  of  Irishmen  not 
to  forget  the  sanctity  of  their  religion,  but  to  protect  it  and 
to  live  up  to  it,  in  order  to  be  all  that  I  have  described,  as 
the  leading  features  of  our  race.  The  Catholic  Church, 
your  mother,  appeals  to  you  to  educate  yourselves  and  your 
children,  so  as  to  make  them  come  up  to  the  level  of  any  in 
the  land.  You  must  use  the  brains  that  God  Almighty  has 
given  to  us  all,  Irishmen ;  for,  whatever  else  He  deprived 
us  of.  He  gave  us  plenty  of  brains.  Give  fair  play  to  tiiese 
brains  by  education.  Above  all,  abstain  from  the  abomin- 
able sin  of  drunkenness.  The  Catholic  Church  asks  you  to 
help  her  by  helping  yourselves.  The  citizens  of  the  world  are 
looking  about  for  a  religion ;  and  in  the  name  of  the  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  if  we  Catholics  are  only  what  we 
ought  to  be  (and  in  that  name  I  ask  you  to  be  what  you 
ought  to  be),  the  example  of  your  religion,  in  each  and 
eveiy  one  of  you,  will  bring  hundreds  into  the  Catholic 
Church.  It  is  in  vain  for  me,  or  the  like  of  me,  to  be 
preaching  and  ministering,  if  you  do  not  rise  to  the  gi*and- 


NATIONAL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  IRISH  RACE.     261 

eur  of  your  national  character,  by  the  exercise  and  practice 
of  your  holy  religion;  by  confession  and  communion;  by 
loving  obedience  to  your  God;  by  your  sobriety,  youiT 
peaceableness,  and  your  obedience  to  law.  The  Gospel  will 
be  preached  in  vain,  if  every  word  that  the  priest  utters  be 
contradicted  in  your  lives.  The  Church  speaks  that  you 
may  listen  to,  and  apply,  her  doctrine  in  your  daily  lives. 
Ireland  looks  to  you.  We  are  few  now  at  home.  I  re- 
member when  we  were  nearly  nine  millions.  I  remember 
seeing  nearly  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  around  Daniel 
O'Connell.  You  would  scarcely  find  that  number  now  in 
a  whole  province  of  Ireland.  They  have  decimated  the 
land.  The  bone  and  sinew  of  Ireland  are  in  America. 
Therefore  the  hopes  and  the  heart  of  Ireland  are  with  you 
here.  These  hopes  are  built  upon  your  virtues,  upon  your 
sobriety,  your  temperance  and  your  self-respect.  Ireland 
hopes  that  her  children  will  become  a  power  in  this  land. 
And  if  Irishmen  in  'this  land  are  only  faithful  to  all  that 
God  gave  them  in  their  religion,  and  to  all  that  He  gave 
them  by  nature,  the  Irish-American  will  always  take  part 
in  the  political  action  of  America;  and,  as  long  as  the 
political  action  of  America  says  to  England  :  "  Let  Ireland 
alone  ;  do  not  be  oppressing  that  land,"  so  long  will  the  poor 
old  mother  be  protected  by  her  strong  sons  ;  for  if  America 
should  raise  her  little  finger,  England  would  stop  the  work 
of  oppression,  and  she  would  think  twice  before  she  pro- 
voked the  mighty  right  arm  of  the  young  Republic  to  dash 
her  to  the  ground. 

And  in  fulfilling  the  hopes  of  your  holy  Church,  and  of 
your  motherland,  there  is  another  reward  that  will  be  before 
you,  which  you  can  clutch  (and  I  hold  it  ought  to  be  the  am- 
bition of  every  Irishman  in  America  to  seize  that  reward)  ; 
and  that  is,  that  you  will  Jiave  the  esteem,  the  respect, 
and  the  good -will  of  the  native-bom  citizens  of  America. 
I  know  that  the  American  citizen,  of  to-day,  like  all  other 
men,  has  his  faults ;  but  I  have  been  in  this  country  for 
some  months,  looking  at  things  with  an  unprejudiced  eye 
(although  I  landed  full  of  prejudice  and  suspicion) ;  and  I 
hold  at  this  moment,  as  an  Irishman  and  a  priest,  that,  if 
there  is  a  man  on  the  face  of  the  earth  whose  good-will  and 
esteem  I  would  value  and  try  to  have,  it  would  be  the  good- 
will and  esteem  of  the  genuine  American.     And  thus,  en- 


262  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

joying  the  same  liberty^  as  the  citizens  of  your  adopted 
country,  you  "will  have  full  play  to  develop  yourselves.  All 
that  Catholicity  made  you  in  Ireland, — and  more,  will  it 
make  you  in  this  fair,  beautiful,  and  free  land  of  America ; 
and  you  will  be  able  to  vindicate  your  religion,  your  nation- 
ality, and  your  country,  and  build  up  the  hopes  that  God 
and  man  have  in  you  as  the  sons  of  Irish  martyrs  and  Irish 
heroes. 


« IRELAND'S  FAITH,  THE  TEIUMPH  OF  THE 

AGE." 

{A  Lecture  ddivered  bv  the  Verry  Men.  T.  N.  Burke,  0.  P.,  in  the 
Academy  of  Music,  New  York,  October  15^,  1872.) 

My  Friends, — In  approaching  the  subject  of  this  evening's 
lecture,  I  am  reminded,  at  the  very  outset,  that,  four  years 
ago,  I  met  a  poor  fellow  in  the  county  of  Galway ;  he  was 
going  along  the  road,  whistling,  I  think,  the  "  Humors  of 
Glynn."  He  had  his  pipe  in  his  mouth ;  and  when  he  came 
up  and  saw  the  Priest,  he  took  the  pipe  out  of  his  mouth, 
and  with  a  guilty  expression  of  countenance  he  put  it  behind 
his  back.  "What  is  the  best  news,  your  reverence?"  he 
said.  "  Well,"  said  I,  "  the  only  news  that  I  have  to  give . 
you  is  that  they  are  making  an  Act  of  Parliament  in  Eng- 
land, declaring  that  the  Protestant  Church  has  come  to  an 
end  in  this  country,  and  it  is  no  longer  to  be  the  established 
religion  in  Ireland."  "  Do  you  mean^to  tell  me,"  said  he, 
"that  the  English  Parliament  made  that  law?"  "Yes; 
thbre  is  no  doubt  of  it,"  said  I.  "  Well,"  sai4  he,  **  by  the 
piper  that  played  before  Moses,  I  never  heard  of  them  mak- 
ing any  law  for  the  Catholics  of  Ireland  before,  except  coer- 
cion bills,  pain  and  penalty  bills,  fines  upon  this,  and  taxa- 
tion upon  that,  and  transportation  for  the  other  thing ;  and 
I  don't  know,"  said  he,  "  what  has  taught  them  now  how  to 
change."  And  then  the  poor  illiterate  man  made  use  of  a 
remark  that  suggested  to  me  the  subject  of  this  evening's  lec- 
ture : — "  Well,  sir,"  said  he,  "  it  is  a  strange  thing  that  they 
should  have  disestablished  the  Protestant  church.  We  are 
not  making  any  row  about  it.  O'Connell  is  dead  and  in  his 
grave;  there  is  no  arming  now,  going  on;  no  fighting  in 
the  country ;  and  the  boys  all  so  quiet.  Isn't  it  a  strange 
thing  that  they  should  have  made  such  a  law?"  He  just 
touched  the  very  soul  and  centre  of  the  magnificence  of  this 


264  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISK 

national  trinmph  when  he  spoke  of  the  trinmph  of  a  peace- 
ful people  over  the  most  powerful  enemies  that  ever  raised 
up  against  any  nation  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

"  Ii-eland's  Faith,  the  Triumph  of  the  Age."  This  prop- 
osition means  two  things :  first,  that  Ireland's  faith  has  tri- 
umphed ;  and,  second,  that  there  is  no  victory  which  this 
age  of  ours  celebrates  that  can  be  compared  to  the  victory 
and  triumph  of  Ireland's  Catholic  faith.  The  proof  that  Ire- 
land's faith  has  triumphed  we  behold  in  that  singular  act  of 
legislation  which,  after  three  hundred  years  of  penal  law  and 
persecution,  has  solemnly  declared, — countersigned  by  Eng- 
land's Minister  and  England's  Queen, — that  they  have  tided 
in  vain  to  rob  Ireland  of  her  Catholic  faith  by  every  means 
of  bloodshed,  persecution  and  confiscation ;  that  they  ac- 
knowledge themselves  beaten,  and  have  been  obliged  to  lift 
up,  over  the  green  hills  of  Ireland,  the  sacred  standard  of 
religious  liberty.  That  this  victory  is  luaequalled  by  any  of 
the  triumphs  of  our  age,  we  shall  see,  if  we  only  contem- 
plate the  things  that  pass  around  us. 

We  live,  my  dear  friends,  in  this  nineteenth  century,  in 
an  age  of  great  victories  and  great  defeats.  Within  the  last 
few  years  the  world  has  stood  aghast  and  astounded  at  the 
clash  of  arms,  and  the  magnitude  of  the  forces  that  were 
hurled  against  one  another  on  so  many  ensanguined  battle- 
fields. The  roar  of  artillery,  like  the  thunder  of  heaven, 
such  as  was  never  heard  upon  this  earth  before,  has  re- 
sounded amidst  the  hills  and  valleys  of  nearly  every  nation 
in  Europe,  and  in  your  own  great  country  of  America. 
Great  issues  have  come  before  the  nations ;  great  prindples 
have  been  defended  and  attacked:  great  defeats  have  l^n 
recorded ;  and  great  was  the  exultation  of  those  who  con- 
quered, in  the  moment  of  their  victory.  But,  I  ask  you, 
are  not  all  these  vulgar  and  commonplace  triumphs?  To- 
day, Bismarck,  Prime  Minister  of  Grermany,  waves  his  vic- 
torious sword  over  the  prostrate  form  of  the  great  and 
generous  nation  which  he  has  succeeded  in  conquering. 
But,  if  he  shouts  out,  "  Victoiy !  Fatherland  for  ever !  Vic- 
tory ! "  he  must  remember  that  he  had  to  purchase  that  vic- 
tory from  old  France  at  the  cost  of  the  best  blood  that 
flowed  in  the  German  veins.  He  must  remember  that, 
before  he  was  able  to  cry  out  "  Victory  I  "  he  was  obliged 
to  have  twelve  hundred  thousand  men  at  his  back.     It  is 


IBELANJya  FAITH,   TRIUMPH  OF  THE  AGE.      265 

easy  to  proclaim  triumph  witii  snch  a  force ;  but  the  victory- 
is  commonplace  and  vulgar ;  it  is  a  triumph  of  brute,  mate- 
rial force,  such  as  the  world  has  often  witnessed,  from  the 
day  that  Cain  shed  his  brother's  blood,  down  to  this  hour. 
France,  in  her  turn,  has  had  her  glorious  moments,  when, 
flashed  with  victory,  she  unfurled  her  tricolor  standard  over 
the  fields  of  Lombardy  and  of  Italy ;  but  around  her,  in  that 
moment  of  her  triumph,  lay  the  best  and  bravest  of  her  sons 
in  death.     Here,  in  your  own  land,  blood  has  been  shed. 
A  great  question  had  to  be  decided,  and  could  not  be  de- 
cided without  the  arbitrament  of  the  sword.'    But  where  was 
the  man  in  America,  in  the  hour  of  your  victory — where 
was  the  man,  even  whilst  he  was  exulting  in  the  victory  of 
the  land,  that  was  not  generous  enough  to  shed  a  tear  over  the 
brave  and  magnificent  enemy  whom  you  had  conquered.     In  a 
word,  the  triumph  of  force  over  force  is  a  commonplace  thing 
that  takes  place  every  day.     But  it  is  only  once  in  a  genera- 
tion— only  once  in  an  age ;  perhaps  not  even  once — that  we 
find  a  triumph  of  great  principles — a  triumph  of  a  high,  no- 
ble idea,  clasped  to  the  mind  and  to  the  heart  of  a  people ; 
defended,  through  centuries  of  sorrow  and  of  bloodshed ;  and 
at  length  crowned  in  that  faithful  people  with  the  crown  of 
an  unblemished  and  unstained  victory.     No  bloodshed  in  the 
moment  of  their  triumph ;  no  saddening  recollections  throng- 
ing around  it :  nothing,  but  an  assertion  of  the  power  of  God, 
and  the  hand  of  God  making  itself  visible  in  the  councils 
even  of  the  nation  that  resisted  Him  for  thi'ee  hundred  years. 
Now,  my  friends,  such  were  the  conditions  of  Ireland's 
victory ;  and  such  was  the  promise  that  God  made.    Among 
the  titles  of  God, — which  He  takes  to  Himself, — there  is  that 
of  King   of  kings,  and  Conqueror  of  kings ;  but  He  also 
calls  Himself  the  King  of  peace, — Hex  pads  ;  a  King  who 
will  assert  His  sovereignty,  but  not  with  the  sword  ;  a  King 
who  will  proclaim  His  triumph  in  His  own  time,  and  whom 
nothing  can  resist.     When  the  triumph  comes,  the  brows  of 
the  victor  are  crowned  with  the  crown  of  peace.     Such  is 
the  description  given  of  the  victories  of  God.     My  friends, 
what  is  the  element  which  God  Himself  has  declared  shall 
be  and  must  be,  until  the  end  of  time,  the  secret  of  a  na- 
tion's as  well  as  a  man's  triumph  ?     It  is  Divine  Faith. 
"  This,"  says  St.  John,  "  this  is  the  victory  which  over- 
cometh  the  world, — our  Faith."    What  does  Faith  mean  ? 
12 


266  IRELAND  Aim  THE  IRISK 

Faith  is  tlie  virtue  by  which  the  intellect  of  man  apprehends 
God,  and  beholds  Him  with  the  eye  of  the  mind,  not  with 
the  eye  of  the  body.     Faith  is  the  Divine  virtue  by  which 
the  minds  of  men,  or  of  nations,  are  put  in  relation,  direct 
and  immediate,  with  the  eternal  truth  of  God.     The  highest 
grace  tJiat  God  gives  to  any  man  or  to  any  people  is  the 
faculty  of  rightly  comprehending  Him,  by  true  Faith ;  out 
of  which  grows  the  passion  of  love  which  puts  that  Faith 
.  and  that  God  above  all  things.     It  is  not  every  man  nor  is 
it  every  nation  that  receives  this  high  gi-ace.     It  is  offered 
to  all  but  it  is  not  accepted  by  all.     Nothing  is  more  com- 
mon than  for  men  and  nations  to  set  up  some  distorted  view 
of  their  own  and  say :  "  Lo !  this  is  the  voice  of  God ;  "  and 
to  their  own  opinion  they  pin  their  faith.     Nothing  is  more 
common  than  for  men  and  nations,  in  hours  of  trial  and  dif- 
ficulty, to  change  their  faith, — to  deny  to-day  that  which 
tbey  believed  yesterday ;  to  give  up  their  faith ;  to  say, 
"We  cannot  cling  to  that  form  of  divine  knowledge  that  God 
has  given  us ;  we  cannot  cling  to  it — it  is  at  too  dear  a  cost. 
We  cannot  afford  to  give  up  property,  liberty,  and  life, — 
everything  in  this  world, — rather  than  lose  that  faith."     No ; 
they  give  it  up,  renounce  it :  and  the  world  has  seen,  over 
and  over  again,  the  terrible  spectacle  of  nations  changing 
their  faith  and  shaking  off  their  God.     But  there  is  one  race 
amongst  the  races,  one  nation  amongst  the  nations,  that  re- 
ceived, fifteen  hundred  years  ago,  this  high  grace  from  God, 
that  the  minds  of  the  people  keenly,  clearly  and  almost  in- 
stinctively grasped  the  divine  truth  of  God ;  and  that*  the 
heart  of  the  nation  was  so  warmed  into  life  by  that  Faith, 
that  the  people,  like  one  man,  were  prepared  to  suffer  and  to 
die,  rather  than  to  ever  give  it  up  or  change  it  from  what 
they  had  received.     I  say,  one  race  amongst  the  races, — one 
nation  amongst  the  nations  ;  for  I  find  that  the  Eastern  na- 
tions, who  received  that  divine  Faith  from  the  Apostles, 
forgot  it, — changed  it, — under  the  persecutions  of  the  schis- 
matic Gfeek  Emperors,  or  under  the  terrible  hand  of  Mo- 
hammed.    I  find  that  the  civilized  nations  of  Europe  have, 
from  time  to  time,  thought  very  little,  indeed,  of  changing 
that  faiih.     Where,  to-day,  is  the  Catholic  faith  that  was 
once  the  crown  of  England  ?     Where,  to-day,  is  the  glorious 
faith  that  once  reigned  supreme  in  Prussia  and  Northern 
Germany  ?     Where,  to-day,  is  the  Catholic  faith  that  was 


JRELANiyS  FAITH,  TRIUMPH  OF  THE  AGE.      267 

once  so  dearly  loved,  and  so  excellently  practised  in  Scan- 
dinavia, in  Sweden  and  Norway?  Where  is  it?  It  is 
amongst  the  traditions  of  the  past.  Its  record  tells  of  the  per- 
version of  the  people.  But  where,  to-day,  is  the  faith  that, 
fifteen  hundred  years  ago,  Patrick  preached  in  Ireland  ?  It 
is  in  the  mind  and  in  the  heart  of  the  Irish  race  wherever 
they  are,  all  over  the  world.  It  is  there,  as  pure  as  it  was 
when  the  message  came  from  the  lips  of  Ireland's  Ajjostle : 
it  is  as  pure  now,  in  the  Irish  mind  and  heart,  to-day,  and 
as  dear  to  the  nation,  as  on  the  day  when  it  was  the  crown 
of  Ireland's  glory ; — as  dear  to  the  nation  as  it  was  on  the 
day  when  it  was  the  blood-stained  treasure  that  she  held  with 
her  agonizing  and  dying  hands ; — as  dear  to  Ireland,  to-day, 
and  to  her  children,  and  as  unchangeable  and  unchanged 
from  the  faith  of  the  divine  religion  that  St.  Patrick  preached 
to  our  fathers.  Is  not  this  a  great  grace  ?  To  apprehend  so 
instinctively  and  keenly,  to  accept  so  joyfully  and  willingly ,- 
to  hold  so  firmly  and  determinedly  that  knowledge  of  God 
which  comes  not  by  the  evidence  of  the  senses,  though  it 
come  by  hearing ; — that  faith  which  is  defined  by  St.  Paul 
to  be  the  argument  of  things  that  do  not  appear,  and  the 
substance  of  things  that  are  not  beheld.  Ireland  received 
that  faith  more  than  a  thousand  years  before  Columbus 
landed  upon  the  shores  of  America.  Ireland  held  that  faith 
by  the  power  of  divine  grace,  and  with  the  instinct  of 
fidelity  unexampled  amongst  nations.  Ireland,"  more  than 
any  other  country,  has  been  put  to  the  test  of  suflfering,  in 
order  that  she  might  be  able  not  only  to  assert  but  to  prove 
to  the  world,  to  the  end  of  time,  that  God  never  had  a  more 
faithful  people  than  the  Irish  race.  To  save  their  people, 
the  nations  of  the  East  lost  their  ancient.  Apostolic,  Catho- 
lic faith  under  the  persecutions  of  Arianism  and  the  schis- 
matic Greek  Emperors,  or  under  the  heavy  hand  of  Mo- 
hammed and  his  followers.  But  tell  me.  What  was  Hemy 
the  Eighth,  of  England  ?  What  was  his  daughter  Elizabeth  ? 
What  was  James  the  First  ?  What  were  the  Charleses,  First 
and  Second  ?  What  was  William  Prince  of  Orange,  or  the 
House  of  Hanover,  but  what  the  Arian  schismatics  and 
Greek  Emperors  were  over  the  East  ?  What  was  Oliver 
Cromwell?  He  was  to  Ireland  what  Mohammed  was  to 
Arabia.  As  terrible  even  as  the  sword  of  the  false  Prophet 
was,  it  never  was  steeped  like  that  of  the  villanous  and 


268  IRELAND  AND  THE  IRISH. 

canting  hypocrite,  who  wet  and  stained  his  sword  in  the 
best  blood  of  Ireland. 

But  God  has  said  that  wherever  the  Faith  is,  that  Faith 
must  triumph.     All  we  have  to  do  is  to  look  at  it  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  behold  the  necessity  of  God's  justice  being  vindi- 
cated in  His  word.     To  attempt  to  force  a  man's  belief, — 
to  attempt  to  impose  upon  his  belief  at  the  point  of  the 
sword, — to  attempt  to  drive  dogmas  of  faith  down  his  throat 
by  the  force    of    the    bayonet's    point, — this  is  the  most 
extraordinary  delusion  that  ever  entered  into  the  minds  of 
men  or  of  nations.     There  is  only  one  sword  that  can  reach 
the  soul  of  man ;  and  that  is  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  which 
is  the  divine  Word  of  God.     There  is  only  one  power  that 
can  induce  a  man  to  bend  his  mind  unto  moral  belief  in 
Christ,  his  Saviour ;  and  that  one  power  is  the  power  of 
Divine  Gi*ace,  coming    down  from   Heaven,  flowing  forth 
from  the  lips  of  some  Apostolic  preacher,  falling  upon  the 
ear  of  the  listener,  and  penetrating  into  his  heart,  moulding 
his  spirit  through  that  agency  of  faith,  and  not  through  the 
power  that  presumes  or  appears  with  the  arms  of  the  flesh. 
With  coercion  bills,  penal  laws,  or  any  other  agency  to  bind 
or  to  force  the  faith  of  a  people,  is  simply  a  "delusion,  a 
mockery,  and  a  snare."     There  is  as  much  difference,  there- 
forey  between  that  which   is  attacked,  namely — Faith,  and 
the  weapons  by  which  it  is  attacked,  namely — the  weapons 
of  persecution,  as  there  is  between  spirit  and  matter,  as 
there  is  between  eternity  and  time,  as  there  is  between 
Heaven  and  earth,  as  there  is  between  God  and  the  devil. 
And    yet,    strange   to   say,  for  three    hundred   years,  the 
wisdom  of  England — that  wise,  highly  educated  nation, — 
labored   to    effect    this    diabolical    miracle !      The    power 
of  England  was  concentrated  upon  this  one  object.   Three 
hundred  years  ago,  the  contest  that  had   been  waged  for 
four   hundred  years  before,  on   the  question   of  Ireland's 
Nationality,  was  renewed  upon  a  different  battle-field.     For 
four  hundred  years  our  fathers  had  stood  and  fought  for  Ire- 
land's freedom   and    for    Ireland's    native    empire.     They 
fought  with    divided    hearts,  and  with    divided  councils. 
With  a  weak  and  faltering  arm  did  they  deal  the  national 
blow.     Heroes  fell ;  and  the  nation  wept  over  her  lost  chil- 
dren, the  bitter  tears  of  disappointment  and  regret.     Never, 
during  these  four  hundred  years,  never  was  Ireland  united. 


IRELAND'S  FAITH,  TBIUMPH  OF  THE  AGE.      269 

It  is  a  sad  and  humiliating  fact,  but  I  am  obliged  to  confess 
it.  Only  that  I  love  my  country  so  dearly  ;  only  that  I  am 
so  proud  of  my  nation  and  of  my  blood, — only  that  I  know 
well  that  these  are  your  feelings  also,  I  would  not  say  that 
word.  Next  to  God  every  man  must  love  his  native  land. 
Next  to  the  blow  which  he  is  prepared  to  deal  in  defence  of  his 
sacred  altar, — next  in  energy,  next  in  force  and  determination, 
should  be  the  blow  he  deals  in  defence  of  the  sacred  liberties  of 
his  country.  God  teaches  us,  by  a  natural  instinct,  to  love  the 
land  that  bore  us ;  and  religion  hallows  the  virtue  of  patriot- 
ism ;  for  the  last  of  Ireland's  Saints  was  the  only  man 
whose  clarion  voice  was  heard  from  end  to  end  of  Ireland, 
crying, — "  Arm  !  arm  !  ye  men  of  Erin  !  Come  with  me, 
and  let  us  drive  the  invader  from  our  soil."  When  he  failed, 
his  Irish  heart  broke  within  him,  to  see  that  the  cause  was 
lost.  And  the  Catholic  Church  canonized  him  for  his  vir- 
tues, amongst  which  was  his  glorious  patriotism.  Yet^I 
blush  to  say, — dear  as  the  cause  was,  important  as  the  cause 
was, — it  was  never  able,  during  the  four  hundred  years  of 
the  first  English  invasion, — it  was  never  able  to  rally  and 
unite  the  hearts  and  hands  of  all  Irishmen.  But,  after  four 
hundred  years  of  unavailing  contest,  when  the  nation  seemed 
to  be  heart-broken,  when  the  national  arm  seemed  to  be  para- 
lyzed by  stroke  after  stroke  of  disaster;  when  Ireland  seemed 
to  have  lost,  or  began  to  lose  even  her  faith  in  her  nationali^, 
— the  English  King,  fortunately  for  us,  fortunately  for  our  his- 
tory, fortunately  for  the  dignity  of  our  national  cause, — the 
King  of  England  called  upon  Ii-eland  to  give  up  her  Catholic 
faith.  He  called  upon  a  nation  that  he  had  almost  conquered. 
He  called  upon  a  nation  that  he  had  already  seen  divided.  He 
called  upon  a  people  that  seemed  to  be  incapable  of  rallying 
one  man,  even  in  defence  of  their  liberties.  He  said  to 
them  :  "  You  must  renounce  your  Catholic  religion.  You 
must  forget  Patrick's  Gospel,  and  Patrick's  name.  You 
must  abjure  and  blaspheme  the  Mother  of  Jesus  Christ! 
You  must  turn  your  backs  upon  the  graves  of  your  dead — 
forget  them,  nor  hallow  their  resting-places  with  sacrifice  or 
prayer  any  more.  You  must  take  the  crucifix  from  off  the 
altar  and  trample  it  under  foot."  This  was  the  message 
that  the  saintly  and  pious  Henry  the  Eighth  sent  to  Ireland. 
But,  lo !  in  one  instant,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  he  was 
astounded  to  isee  that  Ireland  was  united  as  one  man  against 


270  IRELAND  AND  TEE  ntlSH, 

him.  He  recoiled  at  the  sight.  It  struck  teiror  into  his 
heart.  He  had  succeeded  in  uniting  Ireland  upon  the 
glorious  issue  of  Ireland's  faith ;  and  wherever  Henry  the 
Eightli's  soul  is  to-night,  as  an  Irishman  and  as  a  Catholic 
priest,  I  thank  him  for  the  message  which  he  sent  to  Ireland. 
At  once  the  Irish  people  assumed  the  majesty  and  dignity  of 
a  great  nation.  The  sword  that  was  about  to  be  sheathed 
was  grasped  again  in  the  nation's  hands.  Hero  after  hero 
stood  at  the  front  on  many  a  battle-field.  Amidst  the  blood- 
shed and  cries  of  victory,  Ireland  has  proclaimed,  for  these 
three  hundred  years  with  an  arm  that  never  ceased  for  one 
instant  to  wave  the  sword  of  national  faith  ;  Ireland  has 
proclaimed  that,  as  sure  as  there  was  a  God  in  heaven,  so  sure 
would  Ireland's  altar  stand,  and  her  Catholic  faith  remain 
with  her  until  the  end  of  time. 

My  friends,  it  is  really  worthy  of  our  attention  as  Irish- 
men and  as  sons  of  Irishmen.  During  the  first  four  hun- 
dred years  that  the  English  were  in  Ireland,  the  country  was 
divided, — every  little  chieftain  fighting  with  his  fellow 
chieftain,  trying  to  patch  up  a  peace,  or  trying  to  curry 
favor  with  the  English,  aye,  and  playing  into  the  hands  of 
their  strong  and  merciless  invaders.  No  man  that  loves 
Ireland  can  read  the  history  of  the  first  four  hundred  years 
of  the  English  and  Saxon  invasion,  without  being  ashamed 
and  grieved  for  his  country.  But  the  moment  he  comes  to 
the  question  of  Ireland's  religion  being  attacked, — and  it  is 
the  record  of  three  hundred  years, — that  moment  I  rise  and 
lay  my  hand  proudly  on  the  annals  of  my  country.  Show 
me  the  history  of  the  nation, — .show  me  the  pages  that  re- 
cord as  much  braveiy,  as  much  determination,  and  such  a 
magnificent  spirit  of  fidelity,  as  the  history  of  the  religious 
contest  for  the  last  three  centuries  in  Ireland.  Ah  !  Henry 
found,  indeed,  that  he  had  touched  the  rallying  centre  of 
Irish  Union  in  their  religion,  the  moment  he  laid  his  finger 
on  that  religion.  He  had  no  longer  to  put  down  some  little 
petty  prince  in  Connaught,  or  some  King  in  Ulster.  He 
had  no  longer  to  deal  with  some  sept  in  the  mountains  of 
Wicklow.  He  had  no  longer  to  pit  McCarthy  Mor,  stand- 
ing alone,  against  the  King  of  Munster:  he  was  no  longer 
able  to  put  up  one  Irish  chieftain  against  another ;  he  was 
no  longer  able  to  foment  treason  or  treachery  amongst  them. 
No !     Like  one  man,  the  voice  of  Ireland  came  forth  from 


IRELAND'S  FAITH,  TRIUMPH  OF  THE  AGE      271 

out  the  mouth  and  from  out  the  Catholic  heart,  and  Catho- 
lic brain  of  the  nation : — "  Never,  never,  English  King : — 
even  though  you  call  to  your  aid  all  the  powers  of  earth  and 
all  the  devils  in  hell ; — never  shall  you  succeed  in  wresting 
from  Ireland  her  sacred  Catholic  faith."  Kow,  my  friends, 
the  contest  raged  with  uncertain  results.  Generally  speaking, 
we  were  victorious ;  sometimes  we  were  defeated.  I  can 
call  to  your  recollection  the  glorious  name  of  Hugh  O'Neil, 
when  he  stood  at  the  "  Yellow  Ford,"  and  did  not  let  one 
English  soldier  escape  from  under  his  hand.  I  can  recall, 
with  joy,  and  with  pride,  the  day  when  Owen  Roe  O'Neil 
marched  with  his  gallant  Irish  army  to  Benburb,  and  shat- 
tered to  pieces  the  flower  of  English  chivalry.  But  if  there 
was  an  Englishman  here  he  would  be  able  to  remind  me  of 
the  day  when  we  Were  broken  on  the  banks  of  the  "  Boyne's 
ill-fated  river."  He  would  remind  me  of  the  day  when  the 
bravest  of  Ireland's  soldiers  were  hurled  from  the  bridge  of 
Athlone  into  the  Shannon,  swollen  with  the  winter's  rain, 
and  bearing  upon  its  lovely  bosom,  out  into  the  Western 
Ocean,  the  corpses  of  the  best  and 'bravest  men  of  Ireland. 
He  might  remind  me  of  the  day  when  Patrick  Sarsfield 
marched  out,  a  sad  and  heart-broken  man,  from  the  heroic 
walls  of  brave  and  immortal  Limerick.  Therefore,  the  his- 
tory of  this  great  contest  has  been  one  of  alternate  victory 
and  defeat,  of  alternate  joy  and  sorrow.  But,  one  thing  is 
certain :  there  was  no  doubt  that  any  defeat  that  we  suffered 
ever  yet  extinguished  Ireland's  love  for  her  faith,  Ireland's 
love  for  her  nationality  and  for  her  freedom.  These  two  point 
towards  the  enemy  who  assailed  one  as  the  foe  who  assailed 
the  other.  The  tyrant  who  called  upon  Ireland  to  become 
Protestant,  also  called  upon  Ireland  to  bow  down  as  a  mere 
Province  of  the  British  Empire ;  and  Ireland  said  :  "  No  I 
I  will  be  a  Catholic  nation ;  and  I  will  be  a  nation  unto  the 
end  of  time." 

But,  when  the  victory  came,  it  was  still,  after  so  many 
battles,  a  peaceful  one.  God  had  ordained  it,  and, preor- 
dained it,  in  His  own  way.  In  the  beginning  of  this  cen- 
tury, which  is  now  drawing  to  a  close,  Ireland  lay  prostrate, 
after  the  unsuccessful  rebellion  of  1798.  I  have  often  heard 
it  remarked  that  the  men  of  Wicklow  and  the  men  of  Wex- 
ford are  considered  the  finest  specimens  of  the  Irish  peas- 
antry.    Go  through  the  villages,  pass  along  the  highways, 


272  IRELAND  AND  THE  IBISH. 

pass  down  near  the  eastern  shores  of  Ireland,  and  every  man 
that  you  meet  is  as  straight  as  a  lance ;  broad-shouldered, 
with  head  erect,  and  a  fearless  light  in  their  dark  blue  or 
hazel  eyes,  looking  at  you  with  the  glance  of  a  mountain 
eagle.  You  might  well  be  afraid  of  a  contest  with  them 
upon  the  field  of  battle.  Well,  in  the  year  1800,  the  first 
year  of  our  century,  these  men  of  Wexford  and  Wicklow 
were  hunted  through  Ireland  like  wild  foxes  or  wolves.  A 
price  was  set  on  their  heads.  Thirty-six  thousand  English 
soldiers  were  in  pursuit  of  these  brave  and  heroic,  though 
misguided  men.  Their  blood  was  shed  not  only  in  the  fair 
fight  of  battle ;  their  blood  was  shed  in  treachery,  as  when 
ninety  of  them  were  slaughtered  upon  the  Hill  of  Tara,  after 
they  had  given  up  their  arms.  Ireland  beheld  her  two  fam- 
ous counties,  Wexford  and  Wicklow,  a  desert,  filled  with 
English  troops,  and  English  yeomanry ;  and  nowhere  were 
the  people  able  to  lift  their  heads ;  bowed  down,  oppressed, 
and  stricken.  England  took  advantage  of  that  hour,  and  she 
bribed  an  Irishman  to  sell  his  countiy.  She  took  from  us  the 
last  vestige  of  our  legislaftive  assembly,  the  power  of  mak- 
ing our  own  laws.  She  took  the  Parliament  from  College 
Green,  in  Dublin,  and  she  set  up  publicly  the  principle  that 
Englishmen  had  a  right  to  make  laws  for  Irishmen.  She 
was  able  to  do  it :  and  in  the  year  1800,  she  had  stamped 
out  the  rebellion  in  the  blood  of  the  people,  which  flowed  on 
the  virgin  plains  of  Ireland.  The  heart  of  the  nation  seemed 
to  be  broken.  Well,  my  friends,  the  century  opened  thus. 
Ireland's  Parliament  was  gone.  Nothing  remained  to  Ire- 
land but  her  people  and  her  faith.  Her  people  were  still  at 
home ;  her  faith  was  still  in'  their  minds  and  in  their  hearts ; 
and,  starved,  heart-broken  as  she  was,  she  still  had  the  two 
highest  gifts  that  God  can  give  a  nation, — Divine  Faith,  and 
a  plentiful,  strong  and  loving  people.  The  people  remained ; 
and,  in  the  year  1828,  there  were  eight  millions  of  them  in 
Ireland.  God  gave  them  another  great  and  high  gift ;  He 
gave  them  an  Irish  leader, — a  giant  in  bodily  frame ;  a  giant 
in  the  proportions  of  his  mighty  intellect ;  a  giant  in  his  en- 
ergy, and  the  power  with  which  he  was  to  shake  the  English 
Legislature  with  the  loud  cry  of  justice  to  Ireland.  A  giant 
in  his  lion  heart,  that  never  knew  fear, — he  stood  before  the 
nation  as  a  representative  Irishman, — the  glory  and  pride  of 
Ireland,  and  the  terror  of  her  enemies, — Daniel  O'Connell, 


IRELANIJP8  FAITH,   TBIUMPH  OF  THE  AGE.       273 

the  Kerryman.  He  came,  when  he  had  eight  millions  at  his 
back,  and  he  stood  before  the  doors  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons that  were  closed  against  him.  With  the  voice  of  eight 
milUons  thundering  upon  his  lips,  he  smote  those  doors,  and 
said :  "  Open  to  me,  oh !  ye  doors !  closed  by  the  demon  of 
iniquity  and  of  bigotry !  Open  to  me  and  to  my  people :  I 
demand  it  in  the  name  of  the  God  of  religious  liberty,  and 
in  the  name  of  the  God  of  Justice !  "  Hi  a  voice  was  as  the 
voice  of  a  Saint,  storming  the  ^tes  of  Heaven  with  the 
united  power  of  his  prayei-s.  His  voice  fell  upon  the  lintels 
of  those  doors  as  the  blast  of  Joshua's  trumpet  fell  upon  the 
walls  of  Jericho;  and,  as  the  strong  walls  of  the  city 
crumblea  and  fell  down  before  the  voice  of  Israel's  trumpet, 
so,  at  the  sound  of  the  voice  of  Ireland's  Tribune,  the  doors 
that  had  been  closed  against  us  for  three  hundred  years, — 
the  doors  that  had  been  sealed  with  Irish  blood,  in  the  de- 
termination that  they  should  never  open  to  an  Irish  Catholic 
— rolled  asunder ;  and  into  the  midst  of  the  terrified  bigots 
and  lords  of  England,  stalked  the  mighty  and  terrible  Irish- 
man, Daniel  O'Connell.  Ah !  my  friends,  it  was  like  letting 
a  bull  into  a  china  shop.  He  played  the  "  Old  Harry  "  with 
some"*  of  them.  He  alarmed  the  country  in  every  direction. 
The  first  English  statesmen  were  obliged  ,to  listen  to  him ; 
and  the  greatest  bullies  ^hat  ever  met  him  got  afraid  of  their 
lives  of  that  eye  that  could  look  so  terrible  upon  an  adver- 
sary.' 

The  victory  was  gained  for  Catholic  Emancipation.  But 
still  there  remained  the  old,  time-worn,  detested  citadel  of 
"  the  Protestant  church  of  Ireland."  Now,  mark.  When 
the  Appstle  is  discoursing  upon  the  Catholic  Church,  he 
says  :  **  She  is  built  upon  the  foundation  of  the  Prophets  and 
Apostles,  the  great  corner-stone  being  Jesus  Christ,  our 
Lord."  Was  the  Protestant  church  in  Ireland  built  upon  a 
foundation  of  Prophets  and  Apostles  ?  Well,  my  friends,  if 
Henry  the  Eighth  was  a  Prophet  or  an  Apostle,  I  give  the 
thing  up.  If  Queen  Elizabeth  was  either  a  Prophet  or  an 
Apostle,  she  was  one  of  the  founders  of  that  church,  and 
they  are  welcome  to  her.  So  also,  are  they  welcome  to  their 
other  Apostle, — Loftus,  Queen  Elizabeth's  Protestant  Arch- 
bishop of  Dublin, — who  wrote  such  a  nice  letter  about  how 
he  was  putting  the  Irish  to  death,  and  how  they  writhed  in 
the  torture.  He  asked  permission  of  the  Council  in  London 
10« 


274:  IRELAND- AND  THE  IRISH, 

to  put  to  death  the  hoary  Catholic  Bishop  who  was  once  the 
guest  of  this  queenly  ghoul,  their  mistress.  Do  you  know; 
how  it  was  done  ?  It  was  in  Dublin ;  and  there  the  old 
Archbishop  of  Armagh  was  brought  out,  in  St.  Stephen's 
Green.  They  tied  the  old  man  to  a  stake;  they  put  tin 
boots  upon  him,  filled  with  rosin  and  pitch ;  and  with  a  slow 
fire  around  his  feet,  they  roasted  him  to  death,  slowly. 
These  were  the  traditions  on  which  the  Protestant  church 
was  founded  in  Ireland.  God  forbid  that  I  should  entertain 
or  preach  animosity  between  any  Catholic  and  any  Protes- 
tant. I  am  not  alluding  to  Protestants,  at  all ;  I  am  talking 
of  their  old  "  Mumbo  Jumbo "  of  a  church.  But  even 
though  O'Connell  sat  down  in  Parliament,  there  was  a  cry 
of  pain  from  the  Catholics  of  Ireland.  Even  though  many 
of  the  Penal  Laws  were  wiped  out  of  the  blood-stained  stat- 
ute-book, by  that  powerful  hand,  there  still  remained  this  old 
Protestant  church,  and  the  Protestant  Bishops  going  to  Lon- 
don to  make  laws  (God  bless  the  mark!)  for  you  and  me. 
These  were  the  nice  laws.  If  a  landlord,  in  any  part  of  Ire- 
land, swore  that  somebody  had  fired  a  shot  at  him  from  be- 
hind the  hedge,  he  wasn't  asked  to  produce  the  pistol  nor  the 
man  that  fired  the  shot,  nor  to  show  where  the  ball  made  a  hole 
in  his  hat.  He  \^asn't  asked  for  any  proof.  If  he  said, "  'Pon 
his  honor  he  was  fired  at ;— a  desperate  thing !  " — the  whole 
side  of  a  country  would  be  **  proclaimed ; "  no  man  could  go 
about  his  proper  business  after  certain  hours ;  and  the  pfeople 
of  a  whole  district  would  be  imprisoned.  You  have  all  heard 
of  a  j  udge  who  sat  upon  the  bench.  He  was  a  j  oker  of  j  okes ; 
and  very  capital  jokes  he  sometimes  made.  He  was  particu- 
larly fond  of  a  morning's  good  work  and  good  jokes,  when  he 
had  some  poor  fellows  before  him  whom  he  was  about  to  sen- 
tence to  death.  On  one  occasion,  there  were  five  or  six 
poor  Irishmen  brought  up ;  and  Lord  Norbury — this  pleasant 
judge — sentenced  them  all  to  death';  but  he  forgot  the  name 
of  one  of  them ;  and  when  they  were  going  out  in  the  hang- 
man's company,  the  sheriff  said ;  "  My  Lord,  you  have  for- 
gotten to  sentence  Darby  Sullivan."  "  Oh !  dear  me,"  said 
his  Lordship :  "  Darby,  come  here ;  I  have  a  word  to  say  to 
you, Darby,"  said  he ;  "I  beg  your  pardon.  I  had  forgotten 
your  name  when  I  was  passing  sentence ;  but  it  is  better 
late  than  never.  So  you  will,  of  course,  be  taken  out  to- 
morrow morning,  and  be  hanged  by  the  neck  until  you  are 


IBELANHS  FAITH,   TBIUMPS  OF  THE  AGE.      215 

dead.  And  may  the  Lord  have  mercy  on  your  soul ! " 
"  Spare  the  prayer,"  said  the  poor  man  who  was  going  to  his 
death.  **  Spare  the  prayer.  Don't  pray  for  me.  I  never 
knew  anybody  to  prosper  after  your  prayers." 

There  remained  that  Protestant  church,  full  of  money, 
and  usurping  the  ancient  titles  of  the  true  Church  of  God, 
the.  old  Church  of  St.  Patrick,  in  Ireland :  upholding  itself 
on  the  power  and  the  wealth  of  England ;  absorbing  every 
vital  resource  of  the  country.  If  anybody  asked :  "  To  what 
church  does  the  Irish  nation  belong  ?  "  "  Oh !  the  Protes- 
tant church  is  the  Church  of  Ireland ! "  The  Protestant 
church  is  the  Church  of  Ireland!  Why,  there  was  a 
Parish  Priest  down  in  the  County  Cork ;  and  he  was  called 
in  to  the  assizes  to  give  evidence  on  some  question  or  other. 
The  Protestant  Lord  Chief  Justice  was  a  Uttle  bigoted ;  so 
he  said  to  the  Priest:  **My  good  sir,  will  you  be  kind 
enough  to  tell  me  how  many  Protestants  there  are  in  your 
parish?"  "JV^ot  one,  glory  be  to  the  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost,"  said  the  priest.  When  Dean  Swift  went  once 
to  preach  a  sermon,  his  congregation  consisted  of  Roger,,  the 
clerk;  and  so  he  began:  "Dearly  beloved  Roger."  And 
they  tell  us  a  story  even  of  a  Protestant  minister  coming  to 
a  Parish  Priest,  and  saying  to  him :  "  Our  Bishop  is  com- 
ing down  to  look  at  the  parish  ;  aiid  he'lfsee  so  few  Protes- 
tants, that  I  want  you  to  lend  me  a  congregation?''  Ac- 
cording to  the  story  (which  of  course  is  only  a  story), 
the  Catholic  Priest  did  lend  him  a  few  of  his  congre- 
gation; and  when  the  Protestant  Bishop  came,  and  saw 
the  decent  people  so  quiet,  none  of  them  opening  their 
mouths, — according  to  the  old  chroniclers,  he  said:  "  Upon 
my  word,  that  is  the  decentest  congregation  that  I  ever 
saw."  There,  however,  that  church  remained,  staring  us 
in  the  face,  insulting  the  mighty  Catholic  nation,  the 
great  Catholic  race, — insulting  them,  both  at  home  and 
abroad,  by  calling  itself  "  the  Church  of  Ireland ! "  Well, 
now  comes  the  wonderful  part  of  the  business.  O'Connell 
was  in  his  grave ;  the  Irish  people  were  peaceable ;  there  was 
no  agitation ;  we  were  not  holding  any  public  meetings  to 
discountenance  and  denounce  the  Protestant  church.  We 
did  not  send  any  petitions  to  Parliament  to  solicit  the  aboli- 
tion of  the  Protestant  church.  There  was  nothing  at  all 
going  on  in  the  country.     There  was  just  a  little  whit  from 


276  IRELAND  AND  TEE  IRISH. 

America, — just  as  if  a  man  took  a  cigar  out  of  his  mouth,  wid 
let  out  a  little  smoke,  as  much  as  to  say :  "  There  may  be  fire 
where  there  is  smoke."  But  Ireland  was  not  only  peaceable ; 
she  was  almost  indifierent.  The  hour  of  God  came.  God  had 
been  looking  at  this  nation,  robbed,  and  plundered,  and  ban- 
ished \  stricken  ;  aye,  and  put  to  death.  For  three  hundred 
years  the  voice  of  the  Saints,  the  martyred  Saints  of  Ireland, 
had  demanded  justice.  The  voice  of  the  mai-tyrs,  in  their 
graves  in  Ireland,  clamored  for  God's  hour  to  come.  God's 
hour  came ;  and  a  voice,  apparently  from  heaven, — for  cer- 
tainly it  did  not  come  from  Ireland : — a  voice  whispered  in 
the  ear  of  the  English  Premier — "  Put  an  end  to  the.  Prot- 
estant church  in  Ireland.  Its  hour  has  come ;  it  has  been 
tried  and  failed;  it  has  been  weighed  in  the  balance  and 
found  wanting.  '  There  is  blood  upon  its  hands :  there  is 
blood  upon  its  face.  Let  it  depart.  Let  it  go,  with 
all  the  old  falsehoods, .  with  all  the  humbugs  that  have 
ever  lived  in  the  world."  And,  to  our  astonishment, 
William  Ewart  Gladstone,  the  Prime  Minister  of  Eng- 
land, called  upon  the  English  Parliament  to  make  a  law 
that  the  Protestant  church  was  to  cease  to  exist  as  the 
Church  of  Ireland.  The  law  was  passed ;  and  the  Queen, — 
the  head  of  the  church,  mind  you, — was  obliged  to  sign  the 
bill  with  her  own  hand.  Fancy  the  Pope  signing  an  act  de- 
claring that  the  Catholic  Church  wasn't  to  exist  any  more  in 
America.  And  the  Queen  of  England,  the  head  of  the 
Protestant  church,  signed  the  law  that  declared  that  the 
Protestant  church  no  longer  was  to  be  acknowledged  as  the 
Established  Church  in  Ireland.  , 

Now,  my  fiiends,  I  ask  you  to  consider  with  me  one  or 
two  serious  thoughts,  with  which  I  shall  conclude.  What 
is  taught  us  by  all  this  ?  First  of  all,  I  ask  you  to  reflect 
upon  the  singular  historical  fact  that  the  victory  of  Ireland 
— this  great  victory — was  not  the  triumph  of  the  sword. 
Ireland  did  not  strike  a  blow  to  demolish  the  Protestant 
church  in  Ireland.  She  held  her  hands  in  peace,  and  the 
people  maintained  a  quiet,  modest,  dignified  silence.  But, 
under  that  silence  there  was  a  determination  to  wipe  away 
that  old  and  blood-stained  grievance :  even  though  they 
were  to  work  for  a  thousand  years,  it  had  to  be  done.  The 
determination  of  principle  was  there.  That  principle  was  a 
divine  one — the  principle  of  Catholic  &dth— coming  from 


IBELAJWS  FAITH,   TRIUMPH  OF  THE  AGE.      277 

heaicfili,  not  from  the  earth.  God  has  said  in  heaven ;  **  Hie 
victory  that  conquers  the  world,  and  shall  always  conquer  it, 
is  faith."  Jlow  dear,  then,  to  us  should  be  the  preservation 
of  that  principle  !  "What  strength  it  is  to  every  man  to  have 
some  high  and  glorious  principle  by  which  to  regulate  his 
social  life,  his  civil  life  and  his  political  life  !  What  more 
glorious  record  can  be  put  upon  any  man's  tomb  than  that, 
when  it  is  with  truth  said:  "Here  lies  one  that  never 
denied  or  played  false  to  his  principles." 

Secondly,  my  friends,  reflect  upon  the  significant  fact  that 
this  history  of  Ireland  tells  you*and  me,  namely,  that,  in 
order  to  succeed  in  any  enterprise,  national  or  otherwise,  the 
people  must  be  united.  **  Union  is  strength."  Where  union 
is,  there  is  the  element  of  success ;  because  there  is  the  pres- 
ence of  might  and  strength.  God  is  omnipotent — God  is 
essentially  One  ;  therefore  He  is  omnipotent.  The  Catholic 
Church  has  fought  the  world  for  nearly  two  thousand  years, 
and  she  has  always  come  out  victorious:  and  why?  Be- 
cause the  Catholic  Church  is  one — one  in  faith,  one  in  obedi- 
ence, one  in  jurisdiction,  and  one  in  devotion  to  God.  One, 
because  He  who  created  her  prayed  to  the  Father,  and  said : 
"  Oh,  Father,  let  them  be  one,  even  as  Thou  and  I  are  One." 
To  preserve  that  unity,  the  Catholic  Church  has  been  obliged 
to  cut  oflf  individuals  and  nations. '  One- day  a  powerful  king 
contradicts  her  teaching :  she  excommunicates  him  and  tells 
him  to  go  his  way — to  find  his  own  way  to  heaven  if  he  can. 
Another  day  it  is  a  whole  nation,  as  in  the  case  of  England, 
that  says :  "  We  will  depart  and  leave  jou ;  we  don't  believe 
this  that  you  call  your  doctrine."  She  says  :  "  You  are  ex- 
communicated. Go  out  from  me.  You  have  no  communion 
with  me.  Go  and  find  your  own  way  to  your  doom."  To- 
day, it  is  Bismarck  telling  a  Bishop  that  he  must  not  excom- 
municate a  priest  for  this  or  that  heresy.  A  priest  in  Ger- 
many denies  the  Catholic  faith  in  a  public  church ;  and  a 
Bishop  excommunicates  him, — tells  him  to  go  about  his 
business.  He  says :  "  I  will  not  lay  a  wet  finger  upon  you ; 
but  you  must  go.  I  will  not  keep  you."  Tell  me,  my 
friends,  if  I  here  to-night  (God  between  us  and  harm  !) — if 
I  denied  any  one  of  the  Catholic  truths;  if  I  denied  the 
Divinity  or  the  Beal  Presence  of  Christ ; — if  I  denied  that 
the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary  was  tiie  Mother  of  God ;  ,if  I  denied 
that  the  Church  of  God  or  the  head  of  the  Church  was  infal- 


278  IRELAND  AND  THE  miRH 

lible ; — ^would  not  you  be  very  greatly  surprised  to  see  me 
upon  the  altar  next  Sunday,  or  in  the  pulpit  preaching?  The 
first  thing  you  would  say  would  be :  **  Oh,  the  pck)r  Arch- 
bishop !  he  must  have  lost  his  head  ;  for  here  is  that  fellow, 
— ^that  heretic,  here  again !  what  is  the  matter  ?  "  Of  course, 
if  I  were  to  speak  thus  here  to-night,  it  would  not  be  two 
hours  from  now  until  I  would  get  a  letter  from  the  Arch- 
bishop of  New  York,  saying  to  me  :  "  My  friend,  you  are  no 
longer  a  Catholic  nor  a  teacher  of  Catholic  doctrine.  I  sus- 
pend you.  Get  out  of  this  as  quick  as  you  can."  This  is 
precisely  what  the  German  Bishop  did.  What  did  Bismarck 
do  ?  He  said :  **  My  Lord  Bishop,  you  have  no  business  to 
suspend  or  excommunicate  a  priest  without  my  leave !  "  Bis- 
marck is  certainly  not  a  Catholic ;  nobody  knows  of  what 
religion  the  fellow  is.  Now,  imagine  for  a  moment  to  your- 
self. Governor  Hoffinan  or  President  Grant  writing  to  the 
Archbishop  of  New  York  and  saying  to  \fisn^ :  "  My  Lord 
Bishop,  I  will  put  you  in  jail  for  suspending  or  excommunicat- 
ing Father  Tom  Burke,  because  he  denies  the  in&llibility  of 
the  Pope.''  That  is  the  state  of  afiJEiirs  now  in  Grermany. 
That  is  the  <sensible  issue  to  which  this  great  statesman 
brings  things.  This  has  been  going  on  for  two  years.  And 
the  Catholic  Church  just  cuts  them  off, — the  same  as  one 
would  lop  off  a  rotten  branch.  Bight  and  left,  off  they  go. 
And  why  ?  Because  all  things  must  be  sacrificed  in  order 
that  the  great  Church  of  the  Living  God  may  preserve  the 
unity  of  her  &dth,  and  the  unity  of  her  doctnne  and  her 
strength.  She  is  one :  therefore  sbe  is  strong.  We  are  two 
hundred  millions  of  Catholics  all  the  world  over.  When- 
ever a  question  of  &ith  arises  touching  the  Catholic  doctrine 
of  the  Church, — that  moment  the  minds  of  all  the  two  hun- 
dred millions,  that  feel,  see,  and  think  after  their  own  feushion 
upon  every  other  subject, — upon  that  there  is  but  one  thought, 
— and  that  one  thought  the  faith  of  the  Church.  That  is 
the  secret  of  her  strength  and  unity.  So  it  is  with  nations. 
Ireland  was  divided  on  the  great  question) — on  the  great 
test  of  her  nationalily ;  and  Ireland  failed.  Ireland  imited  on 
the  glorious  question  of  her  religious  freedom ;  and  Ireland 
triumphed  with  the  magnificent  triumph  which  is  the  won- 
der of  our  age.  What  was  the  secret  that  united  her? 
It  was  hec  Catholic  faith, — the  Catholic  fSaith  that  told 
her  that  Faith  is  the  substance  of  things  to  be  hoped  for. 


iRELAmra  faith,  tbiumph  of  the  age.     279 

Why  did  the  nation, — ^in  the  deepest  midnight  hour  of 
sorrow  and  persecution, — why  did  she  never  despair? 
Why  does  she  not  despair  to-day?  Because  she  has  the 
faith  that  is  the  substance  of  things  to  be  hoped  for. 
Because  where  the  true  faith  is, — ^where  the  Catholic  ^lith 
binds  the  people  together, — ^there  is  the  breath,  the  liv- 
ing breath  of  the  undying  God.  And  until  God  abandons 
those  who  are  faithful  to  Him, — which  He  will  never  do, — 
that  nation  may  go  on  through  centuries  of  suffering  and 
sorrow ;  but,  eventually,  the  sun  of  Divine  f&vor  will  burst 
upon  l^r  gloriously, — coming  from  God,  resting  upon  her 
faithful  brows, — and  will  surround  her  with  its  light:  for 
Grod,  who  is  never  outdone  by  His  creatures  in  generosity, 
will  -remember  her,  will  crown  her  with  aU  honor  and  glory, 
and  will  yet  set  upon  the  brows  of  this  native  land — this 
mother-limd  of  mine, — the  crown  of  religious  and  civil  free- 
dom, of  honor  and  glory,  which  will  be,  in  the  time  to  come, 
what  the  diadem  of  ancient  Ireland  was  in  ages  past, — the 
wonder  of  the  world  and  the  glory  of  mankind. 


APPENDIX. 


WENDELL  PHILLIPS  ON  O'CONNELL. 

The  picture  of  O'Connell  given  by  Father  Burke  in  the  first  lec- 
ture in  this  volume  may  be  judged  by  some  to  be  overdrawn,  under 
the  influence  of  the  natural  partiality  he  must  have  felt  for  so  dis- 
tinguished a  fellow-countryman  and  co-religionist.  Yet  that  such 
is  nut  the  case  is  abundantly  shown  by  the  still  higher  estimate 
placed  on  the  ^^"n^tfir  ftf  *^^  "  TibjBrator "  by  Wendell  Phillips, 
the  "  Silver-tongued  Orator  of  America,"  in  his  lecture  on  the  life 
of  the  g^ej|t_Irish  Agitator,  which  is  here  appended  in  full,  as  a 
most  Valuable  corroborati<m  of  the  fidelity  of  the  portrait  drawn 
by  the  eloquent  Dominican.    Mr.  Phillips  says  : — 

The  career  of  O'Connell,  and  the  effects  and  purposes  of  his  life, 
become  deeper  in  significance  and  of  more  profound  interest  every 
day, — and  especially  to  us  just  now, — since  the  whole  subject  of  the 
relations  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  have  been  brought  to  the  no- 
tice of  the  American  people  by  a  brilliant  scholar,  and  one  who  has, 
at  least,  a  deep  interest  in  the  good  name  of  his  country,  I  think 
Mr.  Froude's  arrival,  and  his  course  in  this  country,  have  had  one 
very  beneficial  effect ;  they  have  lifted  the  Irish  question  into  full 
notice,  and  into  far  juster  appreciation  among  the  Ameriisan  people. 
We  were  accustomed  to  consider  one  class  of  Irishmen,  who  were 
flung  on  our  shores,  as  the  Irishmen ;  and  we  resigned  the  whole 
history  of  the  relations  of  Ireland  to  an  air  of  indifference,  if  not 
to  contempt,  on  this  account.  Mr.  Froude's  arrival  has  led  the 
American  journals  and  public  men  to  ask  :  '^  Why  does  an  English 
scholar  refer  this  question  to  ;us  ?  "  There  was  great  surprise  ex- 
pressed that  he  had  not  chosen  some  other  topic.  If  he  is  a  histo- 
rian, as  men  claim  ;  if  he  is  a  brilliant  scholar — as  certainly  he  is ; 
why  not  choose,  from  the  abundant  treasure-house  of  English  sub- 
jects, something  of  deeper  interest,  and  of  greater  importance. 
Men  said  to  the  American  people  :  "  What  have  we  to  do  with  the 
relations  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  ?  We  neither  know  anything 
about  them,  nor  care  anything  about  them,  and  the  only  wonder  is, 
what  can  be  the  motive  in  bringing  them  four  thousand  miles 


APPENDIX.  281 

west.'^  Well,  I  was  neyer  surprised,  for  a  moment,  tliat  Mr.  Fronde 
chose  this  special  question  to  lay  before  the  grand  jury  of  the 
American  people.  I  was  never  surprised  that  any  Englishman,  so- 
licitous for  the  good  name  of  his  country :  or  any  patriotic  man, 
desirous  of  wiping  away  the  eclipse  on  t^e  good  f^e  of  England, 
should  clutch  the  opportunity  to  explain  to  the  world,  through 
an  appeal  to  the  grand  jury  of  the  American  people,  the  relations 
between  his  own  country  and  Ireland,  and  the  reason  why  England, 
up* to  this  moment,  has  failed  in  doing  anything  noticeable,  in  the 
way  of  justice  or  statesmanship,  toward  the  sister  island.     • 

Just  look  at  it.  Two  years  ago,  there  was  a  g^eat  war  in  Eu- 
rope. France  was  ground  to  powder  under  the  heel  of  a  military 
power.  What  does  France  represent  ?  She  represents  ideas  ;  she 
represents  the  Democratic  instinct  and  progress  of  Europe.  Ever 
since  the  days  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  she  has  inspired  the  De- 
mocracy of  Europe ;  and  it  would  hardly  be  an  exaggeration  to 
say,  that,  when  that  great  American  penned  the  Declaration  of  In- 
dependence, he  borrowed  the  inspiration  of  it  from  France.  Ever 
since,  she  has  occupied  the  van  in  Europe,  in  the  war  of  men 
against  institutions,  of  brains  against  military  power.  What  does 
Prussia  represent  ?  She  represents  the  reorganized  feudal  system 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  She  is  a  power  mushaUed  into  form 
by  thb  one  purpose  of  court  and  soldiers.  She  is  not  a  nation ;  she 
is  an  army.  Her  great  public  schools,  and  all  her  civil  life,  have  a 
great,  if  not  primary,  purpose  in  the  design  to  make  men  soldiers. 
Every  man  of  the  population, — banker,  mechanic,  tradesman,  or 
scholar, — everything  but  the  pulpit, — goes,  for  the  three  appointed 
years,  into  the  camp,  to  be  disciplined  to  arms ;  and  Prussia's  policy 
is  an  effort  to  drag  the  world  back  three  hundred  years.  She  is 
the  great  military  outgrowth,  the  abnormal  monstrosity  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  And  still,  for  the  moment, — ^for  the  present  hour, 
— she  has  ground  France,  the  representative  of  ideas,  to  powder 
under  her  foot.  It  was  a  crisis,  not  so  much  between  two  nations 
as  between  two  civilizations.  It  was  an  awful  struggle,  pregnant 
with  most  enormous  results  to  Europe.  Where  was  EiJ^land  ?  Why 
did  she  not  draw  the  sword  ?  Why  did  she  not  utter  a  protest  ? 
Why  did  ^e  not  leap  to  the  side  of  her  great  rival  in  this  defence 
of  Democracy,  which  De  Tocqueville  has  painted  so  f  aiiiy  in  the 
American  Constitution?  She,  too,  represents  ideas;  she,  tooy 
claims  that  she  is  the  inspiration  of  the  manhood  of  the  nineteenth 
xsentury.  When  Bismarck  smote  her  contemptuously  in  the  face, 
in  the  presence  of  all  Europe,  why  did  she  not  draw  the  sword  ? 
She  never  had  been  reluctant  to  draw  the  sword.  She  had  been 
the  great  intermeddler  for  the  last  three  centuries.  There  could 
not  be  a  crisis  in  the  remotest  comer  of  the  globe,  about  the  most 
insignificant  motive  in  the  world,  that  England  did  not  put  in  her 
mailed  hand.  Palmerston's  laurels  were  all  won  from  meddling  in 
other  people's  messes.  ^\lf  China  wi^ed  to  gire  up  opiuJh,  England 
wished  it  to  be  there.^^f  Portugal  and  Spain  differed.  Canning 
must  send  his  fleet  to  watch  over  the  safety  of  Lisbon.  She  never 
knew  a  war  that  she  could  leave  alone.     Why  did  she  break  the 


282  "  APPENDIX. 

great  historic  precedent  of  two  hundred  years  in  this  single  in- 
stance? 

Seven  years  ago  I  was  hissed  in  the  Cooper  Institute,  for  saying 
that  England  was  a  second-rate  power,  and  that  she  no  longer  dared 
to  take  a  place  among  the  first-class  powers  of  Europe.  Now,  in 
my  view,  the  reason  why  she  did  not  draw  the  sword  is  two-fold. 
One  is,  that  she  can  hardly  trust  her  own  masses ;  but  the  lai^er 
and  closer  reason  is,  that  the  English  statesmen  know  right  well, 
that  the  first  cannon-shot  they  dare  to  aim  at  any  first-rate  power, 
Ireland  stabs  them  in  the  back.  Seven  hundred  years  of  oppression 
have  earned  the  traditional  right  of  opposition,  whose  creation  is  four 
millions  of  men,  every  one  of  whom  hates  England  with  right  good 
cause.  And  English  statesmanship  knows  that  either  France,  Ger- 
many, or  Russia  has  only  to  land  twenty  thousand  men,  one  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  stand  of  arms,  and  ten  millions  of  pounds  in  Ire- 
land, and  England  is  checkmated :  she  cannot  move  hand  or  foot.  It 
is  the  same  with  this  country ;  and  we  should  be  equally  powerless  if 
it  were  not  for  the  four  thousand  miles  of  water  that  intervene.  If 
it  were  possible,  to-day,  for  any  great  power  to  land  twenty-five 
thousand  men,  forty  thousand  stand  of  arms,  and  a  htmdred  millions 
of  dollars  in  New  Orleans,  President  Grant  would  have  enough  to  do 
at  home ;  and  Providence  is  saying  to  us,  as  she  is  saying  to  England, 
by  the  voice  of  reason,  and  by  the  voice  of  prophecy  :  "  You  shall 
consult  the  races ;  you  shall  win  the  sects  under  your  sceptre  by 
justice,  before  either  of  you  can  take  your  place  among  the  first- 
class  nations  of  the  earth," 

Mr.  Froude  said,  with  great  truth  and  epigrammatic  terseness, 
that, — "No  matter  how  long  God  waited,  the  wickedness  of  one 
generation  was  sure  to  be  punished  by  the  weakness  of  another." 
How  true  it  is,  that  the  wickedness  of  the  Edwards,  the  Henrys, 
the  Elizabeths,  and  the  Stuarts  is  punished,  to-day,  in  the  face  of 
Europe,  by  the  weakness  of  Victoria,  checkmated  on  her  throne. 
I  do  not  wonder  at  all  that  the  thoughtful  Englishman  should 
long  to  explain  to  the  world,  if  he  can,  how  the  steps  by  which 
his  country  has  been  brought  to  this  state  have  been  inevitable; 
that  by  no  wit  of  statesmanship,  by  no  generosity  of  high-toned 
and  magnanimous  honor  could  she  have  avoided  the  path  in 
which  she  is  treading.  If  Mr.  Froude  could  make  out  that  pro- 
. position;  if  he  could  convince  the  world  through  the  American 
people  that  England  accepted  the  inevitable  fate  which  the  geo- 
graphical proximity  of  Ireland  had  entailed  upon  her,  it  would 
have  gone  half  way  to  wipe  out  the  clots  on  his  country's  fame.  I 
do  not  wonder  he  should  make  the  attempt.  I  believe  that,  in- 
stead of  England's  having  conquered  Ireland,  in  the  true,  essential 
statement  of  the  case,  as  it  stands  to-day,  Ireland  has  conquered 
England !  She  has  summoned  her  before  the  bar  of  the  civilized 
world  to  ai^wer  and  plead  for  the  justice  of  her  legislation ;  she  has 
checkmated  her  as  a  power  on  the  chess-board  of  Europe ;  she  has 
monopolized  the  attention  of  her  statesmen ;  she  has  made  her  own 
island  the  pivot  upon  which  the  destiny  of  England  turns ;  and  her 
last  great  statesman  and  present  Prime  Minister,  Mr.  Gladstone, 


APPENDIX.  283 

owes  whatever  fame  he  has  to  the  supposition  that  nt  last  he  has 
devised  a  way  bj  which  he  can  conciliate  Ireland  and  save  his  owu 
country.  But  in  all  the  presentations  of  the  case  it  seems  to  me 
that  our  English  friend  has  been  a  partisan  and  not  a  judge.  Let 
me  illustrate  in  one  or  two  instances  what  I  conmdBr  the  justice  of 
this  charge.  The  population  of  Ireland,  previous  to  1811,  is  wholly 
a  matter  of  guess.  There  never  was  a  census  until  after  this  century 
had  opened.  Sir  William  Petty,  Fynes  Morrison,  the  secretary  of 
Lord  Mount] oy,  and.  others  formed  Mr.  Froude's  estimates,  at 
different  periods,  of  the  population  of  Ireland.  Now,  what  I  change 
as  a  proof  of  partisanship  is,  that  whenever  it  se?ved  Mr.  Froude's 
purpose  to  adopt  a  small  guess,  in  order  to  excuse  an  English,  in- 
justice, or  to  bear  hardly  down  on  the  critical  condition  of  the  Irish, 
he  has  always  selected  the  smallest  possible  estimate.  Whenever  it 
served  his  purpose,  on  the  contrary,  to  exaggerate  the  moral  de- 
ficiency of  tiie  Irish  people,  the  divided  councils,  the  quarrelsome 
generations,  the  totally  inefficient  race,  compared  with  some  interval 
of  English  rule,  he  has  always  adopted  the  lai^est  guess.  For 
instance,  the  historian's  estimate  of  the  population  of  Ireland  about 
the  year  1600,  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century,  was  made 
by  Fynes  Morrison.  He  puts  it  at  from  600,000  to  600,000  men. 
Mr.  Froude  adopts  this  when  he  wants  to  say  that  James  I.,  in  con- 
fiscating six  of  the  best  counties  in  Ireland  and  settling  them  on 
his  followers,  was  not  very  harmful,  because,  he  says,  there  were 
very  few  inhabitants  in  Ireland,  and  there  was  room  enough  for  a 
great  many  more.  I  do  not  see  myself  by  what  principle  he  would 
justify  a  despot  in  confiscating  'the  counties  of  Essex,  Suffolk, 
Norfolk,  Middlesex,  Bristol,  and  Worcester,  in  Massachusetts,  turn- 
ing out  all  the  inhabitants  and  giving  the  property  to  aliens, 
because  there  was  a  great  deal  of  vacant  land  in  Nebraska !  I  <Jo 
not  see  the  exact  moral  principle  by  which  this  can  be  done.  Then 
he  brings  us  down  to  1641-49,  the  era  when,  he  says,  Cromwell, 
with  14,000  troops,  subdued  Ireland.  Then  it  is  his  purpose  as  an 
advocate  to  swell  Ireland  into  large  proportions,  and  show  you  how  a 
great  people  were  swept  like  a  herd  of  stags  before  one  single  pow- 
erful English  hand.  .  Then  he  tells  you  that  Sir  William  Petty  had 
^timated  the  population  of  Ireland,  in  1641,  at  a  million  and  a  half 
of  human  beings,  an  estimation  which  Hallam  calls  prodigiously 
vain,  and,  indeed,  it  is  one  of  the  most  marvellous  estimates  in  his- 
tory. Here  was  an  island,  poverty-stricken,  scourged  by  war,  robb- 
ed of  its  soil ;  and  still  it  had  trebled  in  population  in  about  thirty- 
eight  years,  when,  with  all  our  multitudinous  and  uncounted  im- 
migration, with  all  our  swelling  prosperity,  with  all  our  industry 
and  peace,  with  all  our  fruitful  lands  and  no  touch  of  war,  with  all 
this,  it  took  our  country  more  time  than  that  to  treble.  It  took 
France  166  years  to  treble  ;  but  this  poverty-stricken,  war-ridden, 
decimated,  starved  race  trebled  in  a  quarter  of  the  time  !  How- 
ever, having  put  down  that  point,  the  advocate  goes  on,  in  order  to 
exaggerate  the  trebled  immorality  and  frightful  fratricidal  nature  of 
Irish  life,  and  tells  you  that  in  the  next  nine  years  this  curious  pop- 
ulation, which  had  trebled  four  times  quicker  than  any  other  nation 


I 


284:  APPENDIX. 

in  Enrope,  lost  600,000  in  the  wars.  How  the  wars  become  so 
ninch  more  dangerous  and  bloody  and  exhaustive  in  these  nine, 
years  than  in  the  thirty-eight  years  before,  he  never  explains.  He 
tells  us  there  were  900,000  men,  women,  and  children  when  Crom- 
well came  to  Ireland.  These  900,000  were  the  old,  the  young,  the 
women,  the  decrepit,  the  home-keepers.  Cromwell  landed  with 
14.'000  men ;  and  how  many  did  he  meet  ?  How  many  did  this  pop- 
ulati(m  send  out  to  meet  him  ?  Mr.  Frotkde  says,  two  hundred 
thousand  men  !  Every  other  man  in  the  island  must  have  gone  out ! 
When  France  elevated  herself  with  gigantic  energy  to  throw  back 
the  utter  di^n^ace  of  German  annihilation,  how  many  men  did  £^e 
put  in  the  field  V  One  in  fifty.  When  Germany, — moved  to  the  con- 
test for  the  imperial  dignity  of  Europe, — raised  all  her  jwwer  to  crush 
France  in  that  terrific  struggle,  how  many  did  she  raise  ?  One  in 
thirty-five.  \3S[h§n  the  South,  in  her  terrible  conflict  with  us,  was 
said  to  have  emptied  everything  but  her  graveyards  into  the  camps, 
how  many  did  she  send  out  "i  One  in  twenty.  But  this  poverty- 
stricken,  decimated,  women  and  children  population  of  Ireland, 
went  out  one  in  four !  Massachusetts,  stirred  to  the  bottom,  ele- 
vated to  a  heroic  enthusiasm,  in  the  late  war,  sent  out  how  many  ? 
One  in  sixteen.  Massachxisetts,  swelling,  earnest,  prosperous,  peace- 
ful for  forty  yeaESj^full  of  adult,  robust  men,  sends  out  one  in  six- 
teen, or  one  in  eighteen,  it  is  hard  to  say  which,  precisely  ;  but  Ire- 
land, wasted  by  a  hundred  years  of  war,  sent  one  in  four,  if  you  will 
beUeve  Mr.  Fronde !  There  never  was  such  a  nation  on  the  face  of 
the  earth.  Well,  all  I  can  say  is,  that  if  900,000  sick,  infants,  men, 
and  old  women,  contrive  to  put  an  army  of  200,000  into  the  field  to 
fight  a  nationality  that  is  trying  to  crush  them,  God  crush  the  nation 
that  ever  dare  to  lift  a  hand  against  such  a  people  !  But  it  is  the  idlest 
tale.in  the  world.  Ireland  never  raised  such  an  army ;  no  creditable 
authority  ever  supposed  it.  She  had  probably  30,000  or  40,000  men 
in  the  field,  in  different  parts  of  the  country,  and  that  would  give  her 
a  much  larger  army  than  any  other  nation  of  similar  size  was  ever 
supposed  to  send  into  the  field.  Mr.  Fronde  says  they  all  united 
against  Cromwell,  whereas  they  were  about  equally  divided  among 
themselves,  and  that  division  was  more  fatal  than  English  arms. 
But  you  see  it  was  necessary  to  make  out  the  picture  that  we 
should  get  a  large  army  pf  225,000  men,  because  otherwise  it  would 
not  have  been  possible  for  the  briliant  essayist  to  end  off  with  his 
usual  figure,  that  after  one  or  two  stalwart  blows- they  all  disap- 
peared Uke  a  snow-drift  before  the  sun.  Yes,  that  is  his  favorite 
phrase ;  it  occurs  half  a  dozen  times  in  describing  the  defeat  of  the 
Irish  army ;  and  if  it  is  wanting,  then  comes  another,  that  they  were 
like  straw  set  on  fire.  Cromwell  went  to  Drogheda  and  massacred 
every  living  being  ;  he  went  to  Wexford  and  met  with  stalwart  resis- 
tance ;  and  there  he  steeped  his  sword  in  blood  with  a  barbarity  which 
even  Macaulay  hesitates  to  describe.  ' '  At  last  Ireland  knelt  down 
at  his  feet."  Knelt,  did  she  ?  Well,  the  next  city  he  went  to  was 
Clonmel,  and  she  resisted  so  gallantly  that  he  granted  her  honorable 
terms.  In  Kilkenny  nothing  but  the  treachery  of  some  persons  in- 
side the  walls  would  have  got  Cromwell  inside ;  and  he  ^imaftlf  said  : 


APPENDIX.  285 

*'  I  never  coald  haTB  tonched  yoa,  if  jou  had  not  a  traitor  toother 
side  of  the  walls."  That  did  not  look  much  like  a  snow-drift. 
Bnt  Scotland  is  the  great  ideal  of  our  eloquent  friend.  It  was 
Scotland  that  never  made  a  misstep ;  it  was  Scotland  that  exhibited 
tiie  finest  qualities  of  national  unanimity.  Well,  this  great  English 
soldier  went  to  Ireland,  and  had  spent  a  year,  and  after  massacring, 
butchering  the  garrisons  of  two  cities,  and  having  a  hard  fight  with 
two  more,  and  leaving  them  with  compliment^  and  honors,  and 
being  unable,  even  then,  to  leave  Ireland  till  the  Protestants  be- 
trayed their  own  country,  this  same  soldier  went  to  model  Scotland, 
high-toned,  chivalrous,  united,  brave,  ideal  Scotland,  fought  two  bat- 
tles, took  one  city,  had  no  butehery,  and  in  six  months  left  it  sub- 
jected. Is  that  a  snow-drift  ?  Bather,  is  it  not  more  of  a  snow-drift 
than  Ireland. 

Well,  this  history  of  Ireland  we  may  begin  somewhere  in  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth,  for  about  that  time  begin  the  outlines  of  that 
Irish  Code  which  made  the  complaint  and  grievance  of  Ireland, 
and  which  O'Connell  called  "  his  only  wand  to  evoke  the  sympathy 
of  the  civilized  world."  About  the  age  of  Elizabeth  began  that 
code  of  laws  which,  finally,  at  the  period  of  William  the  Third, 
about  1G92,  became  a  complete  and  finished  code.  It  frrew  out  of 
two  motives.  Evidently  the  first  is  the  hatred  of  the  Suxon  to  the 
Gelt, — ^that  almost  immeasurable  influence,  the  hatred  between 
races :  and  this  Saxon  race  of  ours,  as  you  wateh  it  marching  down 
the  centuries  for  a  thousand  years,  has  been  the  most  domineering, 
overbearing,  imperious,  heartless  and  cruel  of  all  the  races  that 
have  endeavored  by  the  sword  to  clear  a  space  about  them  for 
their  own  greed.  The  second  motive  out  of  which  grew  the  Irish 
Code  was  the  religious  hate— the  hatred  of  the  Protestant  to  the 
Gatiiolic.  And  again  the  Irish  Code  took  shape  from  two  peculiar- 
ities of  English  theory.  The  genuine  Englishman,  in  England, 
largely  for  the  last  fif^  years,  has  no  faith  in  any  power  to  govern 
that  does  not  rest  on  land ;  he  has  no  theory  or  belief  that  any  man 
has  a  right  to  civil  power  who  is  not  a  land-holder — who  has  not  a 
^^ stake  in  the  hedge;"  and  you  will  i)erceive,  therefore,  when  I 
detail  to  you  that  this  Irish  Code  had  a  distinct  purpose,  which  was 
to  sweep  out  of  the  hands  of  Catholics  every  acre  in  Ireland; 
and,  as  Daniel  O^Connell  well  said,  *^  all  the  national  and  ineradicable 
sympathies  of  the  human  heart,  and  the  chord  that  binds  neighbors 
and  kindred  together,  were  debarred  from  part  or  portion  in  this 
hideous  scheme  of  law."  Now,  tiiat  code,  I  am  glad  to  say,  Mr. 
Fronde  adonowledges  in  all  its  length,  as  hideous.  You  know  that, 
under  it,  an  Irish  Catholic  could  not  sit  in  the  House  of  Commons ; 
he  could  not  hold  any  commission  from  the  Crown,  either  civil  or 
military  ;  he  could  be  a  common  soldier, — nothing  more.  He  could 
neither  vote,  nor  sit  on  a  jury,  nor  stand  on  a  witness  stand,  nor 
bring  a  suit,  nor  be  a  doctor,  nor  be  a  lawyer,  nor  travel  five  miles 
from  his  own  home  without  a  permit  from  a  Justice  of  the  Peace. 
The  nearest  approach  that  ever  was  made  to  him  was  a  South  Caro- 
lina negro  before  the  war.  He  had  no  rights  that  a  Protestant 
needed  to  raspect.     If  he  waa  a  land-holder,  if  all  hla  children  were 


286  •    APPENDIX. 

Catholics,  he  was  obliged  to  divide  the  land  equally  between  them. 
This  was  the  English  plan  for  eliminating  the  Catholic  tenure,  of  the 
land  and  letting  it  slip  out  of  their  hands.  Then,  if  any  of  the 
children,  during  their  father's  life,  concluded  to  become  Protes- 
tants, in  such  case  they  took  the  whole  estate ;  or,  indeed,  thejr 
might  compel  the  father  to  put  his  estate  in  trust  for  their  benefit.' 
So,  if  the  Catholic  wife  would  not  go  to  an  Episcopalian  Church 
once  a  month, — which  she  deemed  it  a  sin  to  do, — she  forfeited  her 
dower.  But  if  she  went  regularly,  she  could  have  all  the  estate. 
If  a  Catholic  had  a  lease,  and  it  rose  one  quarter  in  value,  any  Pro- 
testant could  take  it  from  him  by  bringing  that  fact  to  the  notice  of 
a  Justice  of  the  Peace.  Three  Justices  of  the  Peace  might  sum- 
mon any  Catholic  before  them,  and  oblige  him  to  give  up  his  faith, 
or  quit  the  realm.  Four  justices  could  oblige  him  to  abjure  his 
faith  or  sell  his  estates.  If  a  Protestant  paid  one  dollar  tax,  the 
Catholic  paid  two.  If  a  Protestant  lost  a  ship,  when  at  war  with 
a  Catholic  power, — and  at  the  time  there  was  only  one  Protestant 
power  in  Europe,  besides  Great  Britain ;  that  was  Holland ;  so  that 
the  chances  were  nine  to  one  that,  in  case  of  war,  Great  Britain 
would  be  at  war  with  a  CathoKc  power ; — ^in  such  a  case,  if  a  Pro- 
testant lost  a  ship,  he  went  home  and  assessed  the  value  on  his 
Catholic  neighbors,  and  was  reimbursed.  So,  of  education.  We 
fret  a  great  deal,  on  account  of  a  class  of  Irishmen  who  come  to 
our  shores  and  are  lacking  in  education,  in  cultiire,  and  refinement. 
But  you  must  remember  the  bad  laws, — you  must  remember  the 
malignant  legislation  that  sentenced  them  to  a  life  of  ignorance, 
and  made  education  a  felony  in  Catholic  Ireland.  If  an  Irishman 
sent  his  child  to  a  Protestant  schoolmaster,  all  right;  but  if  the 
parent  would  not  do  so,  and  sent  him  to  a  Catholic  school,  the 
father  was  fined  ten  pounds  a  week;  and  the  schoolmaster  was 
fined  five  pounds  a  week  ;  and  for  the  third  offence  he  was  hung ! 
But,  if  the  father  determined  that  his  child  should  be  educated, 
and  sent  him  across  the  Channel  to  France,  the  boy  forfeited  his 
citizenship  and  became  an  alien :  and,  if  discovered,  the  father  was 
fined  one  hundred  pounds ;  •  and  anybody,  except  the  father,  who 
harbored  him,  forfeited  all  civil  rights ; — that  is,  he  could  not  sue 
in  a  court  of  law,  nor  could  not  vote.  ludeed,  a  Catholic  could  not 
marry  1  If  he  nuirried  a  Protestant,  the  nuuriage  was  void ;  the 
children  were  illegitimate.  And,  if  one  Catholic  married  another, 
it  required  the  presence  of  a  priest ;  and,  if  a  priest  landed  in  Ire- 
land for  twenty  minutes,  it  was  death  I  To  this  ferocious  "  Code," 
Sir  Robert  Peel,  in  ourWwn  day,  added  the  climax,  that  no  Cath- 
olic should  quit  his  dwemng  between  the  hours  of  sun-set  and  sun- 
rise,— an  exaggeration  of  the  "  Curfew  Law  "  of  William  the  Con- 
queror. Now,  you  will  hardly  believe  that  this  was  enacted  as  a 
law.  But  Mr.  Froude  alludes  to  this  code.  Yes;  he  was  very 
honest ;  he  would  paint  England  as  black  as  she  deserved.  He 
said  of  Queen  Elizabeth  that  she  failed  in  her  duty  as  a  magistrate ; 
she  failed  towards  Ireland  in  her  capability  of  being  a  great  ruler. 
And  then  he  proceeded,  after  passing  sentence,  to  give  us  the  his- 
tory of  her  reign,  and  showed,  that,  in  very  many  cases,  she  could 


AFFENBIX.  287 

not  have  done  any  different.  For  instance, — oh  I  it  is  the  saddest, 
blackest,  most  horrible  statement  of  all  history :  it  makes  you  doubt 
the  very  possibility  of  human  nature,  when  you  read, — that  Spen- 
cer, the  poet,  who  had  the  most  ardent,  most  perfect  ideas  in  Eng- 
lish poetry, — Spencer  sat  at  the  council  board  that  ordered  the 
wholesale  butchery  of  a  Spanish  regiment  captuSred  in  Ireland; 
and  he  chose,  to  execute  the  order,  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  the  scholar, 
the  gentleman,  the  poet,  the  author,  and  the  most  splendid  Eng- 
lishman of  his  age  !  And  Norris,  a  Captain  under  Sydney,  in  whose 
veins  flowed  the  blood  of  Sir  Philip,  writing  home  to  Elizabeth, 
begs  and  persuades  her  to  believe  in  O'Neill's  crimes,  and  asks  for 
leave  to  send  a  hired  man  to  poison  him  I  And  the  Virgin  Queen 
makes  no  objection !  Mr.  Froude  quoted  a  letter  from  Captain 
Norris,  in  which  he  states  that  he  found  himself  in  an  island  where 
five  hundred  Irish  (all  women  and  children;  not  a  man  among 
them)  had  taken  refuge  from  the  war ;  and  he  deliberately  butch- 
ered every  livings  soul !  And  Queen  Elizabeth,  in  a  letter,  still 
extant,  answers  by  saying :  "  TeU  my  good  servant  that  I  will  not 
forget  his  good  services."  He  tells  us  that  "  The  English  nobility 
and  gentry  would  take  a  gun  as  unhesitatingly  as  a  fowler,  and  go 
out  to  shoot  an  Irishman  as  an  TTidia-n  would  a  buffalo."  Then  he 
tells  us,  with  amazement,  that  you  never  could  make  an  Irishman 
respect  an  Englishman  I  He  points  to  some  unhappy  Kildare,  the 
sole  relic  of  a  noble  house,  whose  four  uncles  were  EJaughtered  in 
cold  blood;  that  is  the  only  word  for  this  kilid  of  execution, 
— slavghtered;  and  he,  left  alone,  a  boy,  grows  characterless,  and 
kills  an  Archbishop.  Every  impetuous,  impatient  act  is  dragged 
before  the  prejudiced  mind.  But,  when  Mr.  Froude  is  painting 
Sir  Walter  and  Spencer,  blind  no  longer,  he  says :  "  I  r^ret, — ^it  is 
very  sad  to  think, — that  such  things  should  ever  have  been  I " 

Of  that  "Irish  Code,"  Lord  Brougham  said  once:  "It  was  so 
ingeniously  contrived  that  an  Irish  Catholic  could  not  lift  his  hand 
without  breaking  it."  This  was  the  code  of  which  Edmund  Burke 
once  said  :  '  ^  The  wit  of  man  never  devised  a  machine  to  disgrace  a 
realm  or  destroy  a  kingdom  so  perfect  as  this."  This  is  the  code 
of  which  the  English  Chancellor  said :  "By  the  strict  construction 
of  the  English  law,  an  Irish  Catholic  had  no  right  to  breathe." 
This  is  the  code  of  which  the  calm,  statesmanlike  i>en  of  Montes- 
quieu, the  great  French  statesman,  was  provoked  to  write  :  "  It  must 
have  been  contrived  by  devils ;  it  ought  to  have  been  written  in 
blood  ;  and  the  only  place  to  regfister  it  is  in  hell."  Yet  this  is  the 
code  by  which  England  ruled,  almost  unchanged,  for  two  hundred 
years.  Of  course,  a  race  like  the  Irish  never  sat  down  contented 
under  such  a  code.  I  thank  Mr.  Froude  that  he  has  painted  the 
Irishman  as  a  chronic  rebel.  It  shows  that  at  least  the  race  knew 
that  they  were  oppressed,  and  gathered  together  all  the  strengfth 
that  God  had  given  them  to  resist.  They  never  rested  contented. 
It  is  by  no  means,  therefore,  a  surprise  that  a  patriotic  English- 
man, looking  back  on  the  last  three  centuries,  shotdd  long  to  justify 
his  nation  and  his  own  race,  after  having  conceited  that  it  has  all 
the  brains,  and  two-thirds  of  the  heart  of  the  world.    It  volun- 

t 

J 


288  APPENDIX. 

teered  to  be  the  gnardian  of  this  obstinate  Ireland.  It  rolnnteered 
to  furnish  a  government  to  the  distracted,  ignorant,  poverty- 
stricken,  demoralized  millions  of  Ireland.  It  has  been  three  hun- 
dred years  at  the  experiment ;  and  Mr.  Froude  told  us,  the  other 
evening,  that,  rather  than  let  Ireland  go, — weary  of  their  long  fail- 
ure,— rather  than  let  Ireland  go,  they  would  exterminate  the  Irish 
race  !  What  a  confession  of  statesmanship  !  *'  We  have  tried,  for 
seven  hundred  years,  to  manufacture  a  government;  and,  at  the 
end  of  it,  our  alternative  is  extermination  !  " 

Well,  you  see,  the  world  asks  whence  comes  this  result  ?  Was  the 
English  race  incapable  ?  Did  it  lack  courage  ?  Did  it  lack  brains  ? 
Did  it  lack  care  ?  Did  it  lack  common-sense  ?  Did  it  lack  that  dis- 
criminating sagacity  which  knows  time  and  place? — What  is  the 
reason  of  the  failure?  And,  of  course,  the  only  answer  of  an 
Englishman,  who  is  unwilling  to  tear  down  the  great  splendor  of  his 
flag,  is  to  find  the  cause  in  the  dogged  incapacity  of  Ireland,  and 
not  in  any  lack  of  his  own  country.  Mr,  Froude  is  obliged  to  prove, 
that  the  Irish  were  left  by  God  unfinished  ;  and  that  you  cannot,  by 
any  wit  of  man,  manufacture  a  citizen  out  of  an  Irishman.  He  is 
shut  up  to  this  argument ;  for,  unless  he  proves  the  Irishman  a 
knave,  he  is  obliged,  from  the  facts  of  the  case,  to  confess  England 
a  fool ;  and  that  is  the  grand  alternative.  They  have  had  time 
enough,  power  enough,  and  opportunity  enough,  and  why  have 
they  not  created  a  government  ?  Why  have  they  not  conciliated 
Ireland  ?  Why  have  they  not  satisfied  the  citizens  of  the  world,  that 
the  task  has  been  accomplished  ?  Why  does  Europe  cry  out 
"  shame,"  until  within  a  dozen  years  V  Suppose  that  we  should  re- 
main with  the  South  in  our  right  hand, — passive  and  powerless  as 
she  is  to-day,  that  we  should  remain  in  that  attitude  for  one  hun- 
dred years ;  and  that,  at  the  end  of  it,  the  South  was  just  as  de- 
fiant, just  as  demoralized,  just  as  hostile,  and  just  as  lacking  in 
good  government  and  the  mechanism  of  industrial  prosperity  as  she 
is  to-day ; — what  would  be  the  fact,  patent  on  that  showing  ? 
Why,  that  we  were  incapable  of  the  taak  we  had  assumed. 

That  is  where  Mr.  Froude  finds  England ;  and  he  is  shut  up, — 
logically  speaking, — shut  up  to  the  necessity  of  proving  that  Ireland 
lacks  the  elements, — that  the  Celtic  race  lacks  the  elements  that  go 
to  make  up  self-government,  statesmanship,  and  a  law-abiding 
community;  that  they  are  unwilling  to  associate  with  the  great 
movements  of  the  British  race.  He  comes,  therefore,  to  us  with 
that  purpose.  He  comes  to  excuse  England  on  the  ground  of  Irish 
incapacity.  Well,  it  was  a  marvellously  bad  choice  of  a  jury :  for 
two  reasons,  it  was  a  marvellously  bad  choice  of  a  jury ;  for,  in  the 
first  place,  there  were  a  number  of  logical,  middle-aged  gentlemen, 
who  met  in  Philadelphia,  on  the  Fourth  day  of  July,  1776,  and  as- 
serted that  God  created  every  man  fit  to  be  a  citizen;  that  He  did 
not  leave  any  race  so  half  made  up  and  half  finished,  that  they 
were  to  travel  through  the  cycle  of  seven  hundred  years  under  the 
guardianship  of  any  power.  And  on  that  Fourth  day  of  July,  they 
established  the  comer-stone  of  American  political  faith,  that  all. 
men  aro  capable  of  self-government ;  while  the  whole  substratum ' 


APPENDIX.  2S9 

of  this  conrse  of  lectures,  by  this  eloquent  Britisli  scholar,  was  the 
fact  that  God  left  Ireland  so  unfinished  that  a  merciful  despotism 
was  necessary.  His  American  audience  would  be  obliged  to  tear  up 
the  Declaration  of  Independence,  and  trample  it  under  foot,  before 
they  could  begin  to  listen  to  4uin.  The  whole  drift  and  design  of 
these  lectures  was  to  show,  in  this  instance,  that  a  merciful  des- 
potism was  necessary ;  and  the  lecturer  offered  the  argument  to  a 
people,  that  had  proclaimed  in  words,  and  afterwards  in  deeds,  for 
a  hundred  years,  that,  under  all  conditions,  and  in  all  circum- 
stances, the  despot,  merciful  or  unmerciful,  was  nothing  but  a  nui- 
sance. 

Well,  then,  it  was  impossible  for  the  American  people  to  receive 
such  an  argument.  But,  again,  it  was  a  tune  that  we  had  heard 
many  years  ago.  It  struck  us  as  very  familiar ;  and  we  knew  a  trick 
worth  two  of  that.  Mr.  Froude  came  to  us  with  a  descriptive  pic- 
ture of  English  policy,  ^hich  was  to  stir  up  O'Neil  against  Kildare, 
and  to  set  at  variance  the  royal  houses  of  Ireland,  in  aiding  the  con- 
querors, year  after  year,  and  generation  after  generation.  Well,  we 
know  something  of  that.  If  you  will  only  read  Parton's  "  History 
of  the  Administration  of  Washington,"  you  will  see  the  picture,  just 
fresh  from  the  pencil,  where  the  same  trick  was  tried  by  stirring  up 
all  the  Indian  tribes  along  the  Western  frontier  against  the  feeble 
American  Colonies.  That  trick  of  English  statesmanship  was  so 
familiar  to  us,  that,  in  a  moment,  the  heart  of  the  American  people 
said  :— "  WeU,  we  have  known  all  that. .  We  do  not  need  any  affida- 
vit :  there  is  so  much  of  it  in  accordance  with  English  statesman- 
ship that  we  will  take  it  for  granted. "  And,  so,  I  hold  that  Mr. 
Fronde's  choice  of  the  jury  was  lU-timed.  The  American  people 
could  not, — without  ignoring  their  whole  history,  and  forgetting  the 
early  and  sad  struggles  of  the  Republic, — they  could  not  begin  to 
receive  the  arguments  of  the  eloquent  scholar. 

Well,  I  listened  to  him  with  amusement, — although  it  did  not  sur- 
prise me, — ^for  I  had  expected  somewhat  of  an  impartial  picture  or 
relation.  Not  that  I  consider  Mr.  Froude  an  historian.  I  under- 
took to  say,  with  a  great  deal  of  risk  of  having  my  ears  boxed  by 
the  very  sensitive  New  England  Press,  some  two  months  ago,  that 
every  attempt  from  Mr.  Fronde's  pen,  for  the  last  ten  years,  showed 
in  him  a  writer  of  party  pamphlets,  and  not  a  historian.  But, 
since  that  day,  I  have  fallen  into  very  respectable  company.  Mr. 
Gold  win  Smitii,  an  Englishman,  in  an  especial  criticism,  hints  at 
some  of  his  opinions  far  more  unequivocally.  The  London  Athe- 
Tumim  repeats  the  same  confession  in  its  pages,  and  adds  its  testi- 
mony to  the  list.  And  so,  after  all,  the  American  people  are  not 
singular  in  their  conceits ;  and  the  best  voice  by  far  to  advocate 
any  logical  sequence  is  that  of  the  impartial  patriot,  whose  judicial 
mood  is  the  historian's.  Yet,  I  allow  that  Mr.  Froude  stru^led 
hard, — ^he  strained  every  nerve  ;  he  did  his  best, — actually  did  his 
best ; — ^to  paint  an  Irishman  correctly.  I  think  he  meant  to  do  it ; 
I  think  he  labored  to  do  it ;  and,  as  I  watched  him  in  his  brilliant 
essays, — so  exquisitely  i)athetical,  and  so  eloquently  written, — I  saw 
that  the  man  was  straining  every  nerve  to  be  magnanimous  and  im- 

13 


290  APPENDIX. 

partial.  The  diflBculty  was  tliat  he  was  an  Englishman,  and  conld 
not.  He  was  striving  to  get  beyond  the  natural  and  inevitable  limit- 
ation of  an  Englishman.  Ben  Jonson,  the  old  playwright  of 
Shakespearc^s  day,  when  James  the  First  sent  him  a  miserable  pit- 
tance of  a  few  shillings,  said,  indignantly,  to  the  messenger:  "  He 
sends  me  that  pittance  because  I  live  in  an  alley.  Tell  the  King 
that  his  soul  lives  in  an  alley."  So  I  should  say  to  Mr.  Froude,  or 
any  other  Englishman,  that  his  soul  lives  in  an  island,  and  he  can- 
not get  beyond  it.  His  unconscious  sneer, — his  ineradicable  and 
unconscious  contempt  for  everything  that  is  not  English,  becomes 
amusing.  It  is  so,  towards  us ;  it  is  so,  towards  Scotland,  as  well 
as  Ireland.  It  is  not  a  peculiar  fault,  touching  Ireland  alone. 
When  Samuel  Johnson,  a  hundred  years  ago,  said,  in  London,  so 
authoritatively,  that  "  You  could  make  a  great  deal  out  of  a  Scotch- 
man, if  you  caught  him  young,"  he  was  not  aware  of  his  supreme 
contempt,  when  he  added  that,  "If  you  wait  until  he  has  grown 
up,  with  the  mind  and  heart  of  a  Scotchman,  you  may  take  him  at 
the  risk  of  failing"  "Well,  now,  he  had  no  iU-feeling  towards  the 
Scotchman :  or  he  would  not  have  thus  spoken  of  them,  as  "  Mark 
Twain"  said,  in  his  lecture,  talking  of  Hallam,— "  with  aeon- 
tempt  which  makes  Junius  pale."  So,  towards  us,  forty  years  ago, 
the  Quarterly  Beview  Baid :  "Who  reads  an  American  book?"  It 
was  an  unconscious  insult.  And,  when  the  English  House  of  Com- 
mons repeated  it,  in  '61,  nobody  felt  that  the  exhibition  was  anything 
but  a  peculiarly  English  conceit.  Lord  Level  said  once,  in  a  corres- 
pondence with  a  most  eminent  scholar  and  Justice  of  Great  Britain  : 
*'  Sir,  England  has  no  measure  of  right  or  wrong:  if  a  thing  harms 
England,  it  is  wrong,  and  if  it  helps  England,  it  is  right."  It  is  the 
only  yard-stick  she  uses. 

WeU,  the  Froude  movement  grew  out  of  the  same  root.  Now, 
Mr.  Froude,  in  painting  Ireland,  has  given  us  a  disgusting  picture 
of  the  Irish  peasantry  of  hundreds  of  years  ago:  "half -clad,  or. 
naked ;  dirty,  demoralized,  living  in  caves,  or  in  hovels  no  better 
than  caves ;  half -starved ;  constantly  quarrelling ;  demoralized,  and 
nearly  brutalized  by  ignorance."  Arid  he  paints  this  picture  as  if  it 
were  Ireland  alone, — especially  Ireland-  He  knew  very  well  that 
the  same  portrait  would  be  almost  true  of  France, — would  meet 
very  well  with  Germany — would  nott)e  far  out  in  Scotland,— and 
would  come  close  home  to  England  at  the  same  date.  He  knew 
right  well  the  old  story  of  Henry  the  Seventh's  day,  when  the 
English  peasants  slept  on  the  ground,  in  hovels  that  hardly  covered 
them ;  when  they  were  clad  in  skins,  if  they  had  any,  for  clothes ; 
and  ate,  we  know  not  what.  He  knew  well  the  story  of  the  father, 
who  saw  his  son  lying  down  one  night  with  a  stone  for  a  pillow, 
and  kicked  it  from  under  his  head  for  fear  the  boy  should  grow  too 
luxurious  !  He  knew  very  well  that  his  picture  of  the  Iri^  would 
answer  for  any  other  nation ;  and  that  the  Irish  uflper  classes  were 
just  as  luxurious,  splendid,  lavish,  refined  and  cultured,  as  the  no- 
bility of  any  other  clime.  When  Kildare  went  to  London  to  meet 
Elizabeth,  with  his  armor  inlaid  with  gold,  and  his  horses  shod 
with  silver,  ajod  appeared  with  his  eple^iid  retinue  in  the  skidet?, 


APPEin)IX.  291 

eren  EHzabeth,  the  "  Virgin  Qnecn,"  was  dazzled  by  the  spleiidor  of 
her  subject.  When  Henry  the  Eighth  and  Francis  the  Fipst  met 
on  the  "  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold,"  in  their  full  splendor,  both 
kii^oms  vied  with  each  other  in  magnificence ;  and  when  O'Neil 
joined  the  group  with  a  retinue  of  two  hundred  Irish  knights,  mar- 
shalled in  glittering  armor,  his  presence  added  to  them  more 
lustre,  for  it  was  the  cap-sheaf  of  the  splendor  of  both  coun- 
tries. Ireland  had  her  two  classes,  the  upper  class  of  heroes  and 
princes,  and  the  lower  class,  just  as  those  of  every  other  kingdom, 
not  otherwise.  But  the  Englishman  comes  out  when  you  look  at 
the  test  of  pnuse  to  the  great  names  of  Ireland.  Mr.  Fronde 
painted  ns  the  great  names  of  Ireland,  and  the  wonder  was  that  he 
never  found  one  to  praise.  Not  one.  He  came,  at  last,  to  Henry 
Grattan ;  and  he  said :  **  Grattan  was  an  honest  man  ! "  Thought 
I,  my  Saxon  brother  has  found  a  man,  at  last,  in  the  sister  island. 
But  he  cut  that  idea  off  instantly  by  saying  that  Grattan' s  great 
lack  was  common-sense.  He  never  saw  an  Irishman  to  praise. 
That  island  which,  according  to  its  numbers,  has  given  perhaps 
more  than  its  fair  proportion  to  the  great  names  of  the  galaxy  of 
Europe.  Why,  Edmund  Biirke, — to  cite  him  alone, — stands  as  a 
statesman  and  orator  the  peer  of  the  Koman  Cicero ;  and  our  own 
Webster  is  dwarfed  before  him.  And  he  is  not  alone.  The 
ItOT^on  Athenceum^  pui^bing  beyond  us,  says,  "  If  we  are  to  believe 
Mr.  Froude,  neither  patriotism,  nor  thought,  nor  common-sense, 
nor  self-respect  ever  blundered  in  one  single  case  into  the  heart  of 
an  Irishman  for  the  last  three  hundred  years."  Well,  Harriet  Mar- 
tineau, — the  best,  perhaps,  of  modem  historians, — whose  picture 
of  "  The  Thirty  Years'  Peace  "  is  as  yet  untouched,  went  through  the 
great  catalogue  of  Ei^lishmen  of  that  date.  If  she  differed  from 
them,  she  found  an  extenuating  reason ;— there  is  an  extenuating 
circumstance; — "He  may  be  right,  pei^ps.  He  and  I  differ. 
Perhaps  he  may  be  correct."  But,  when  she  comes  to  O'Connell, 
she  finds  constant  reason  to  blame  him,  either  for  a  bad  act,  or,  if 
compelled  to  acknowledge  that  the  act  was  good,  then  she  searches 
for,  and  is  sure  to  find,  a  bad  motive.  It  is  the  same  limitation  of 
Ei^lish  conceit,  exactly  as  Lord  Brougham  told  Charles  Sumner, 
that  he  never  read  but  a  few  lines ;  and  the  Maxquis  of  Lansdowne 
told  him  he  never  read  even  a  line  of  his  translation  of  Ovid ;  for 
he  never  held  it  at  a  high  enough  appreciation.  This  is  English 
contempt.     What  else  can  you  expect  ? 

Well,  this  was  the  radical  fault  of  Mr.  Froude's  picture.  He 
could  not  see  an  Irishman  correctly.  Qe-  brought  two  yard -sticks ; 
one  with  which  to  measure  an  Irishmzun,  and  the  other  to  measure 
everybody  else.  Take  the  case  of  O'Neil,  the  splendid  Earl  of 
Tyrone.  Elizabeth  took  him  young,  and  carried  him  to  London. 
She  brought  him  up  in  all  the  accomplishm^ats  of  the  camp  and 
court,  all  the  egcercises  of  chivalry  she  could  teach.  She  made  him 
a  scholar  and  a  gentleman,  as  she  thought;  and,  at  twenty-one, 
she  allowed  him' to  go  back  to  Ireland,  "He  drew  the  sword," 
Bays  Mr.  Froude,  "  ai^  almost  severed  the  tie  that  binds  Ireland  to 
V!n^«ni\.    ijid  b9  gs^Te  the  Queen  moie  trouble  than  any  otiier  Iriah- 


292  '  APPENDIX. 

man  of  that  centtirj  or  any  century  that  came  after."  Well,  he  says, — 
"  What  an  imgrateful  wretch  I  "  and  then  he  adds :  "  You  see,  gen- 
tlemen, that  a  wolf,  even  if  treated  like  a  dog",  will  be  still  a  wolf, — 
that  is  an  O'Neil,"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  Robert  Bruce, — Robert 
Bruce,  who  is  immortalized  in  Bums'  song  ?  Did  you  ever  know  the 
Scottish  bard  to  sing  more  gloriously  of  any  other  name  than  that 
of  Bruce  ?  Who  was  he  ?  He  was  a  Scotchman  that  Edward  took 
at  sixteen  and  carried  to  London,  and  kept  him  there  in  a  gilded  cage. 
Bruce  knew  that  he  owed  the  English  King  nothing,  although  he 
had  had  all  the  education  that  the  court  and  camp  could  give. 
Bruce  knew  right  well  that  he  was  a  hostage,  and  that  he  was  there 
that  his  father  might  have  to  "mind  his  P's  and  Q's,"  and  behave 
himself,  and  that  his  relatives  might  be  kept  quiet.  Bruce  knew 
all  this  well ;  and  when,  at  twenty-one,  he  gol  back  to  Scotland,  he 
drew  the  sword,  and  actually  did  sunder  the  tie  that  bound  Scotland 
to  England,  and  took  his  place  among  the  patriots  and  warriors  and 
statesmen  of  all  ages.  Where  is  the  man  that  ever  called  Bruce  "  a 
wolf  ?  "  Nobody  ever  supposed  that  the  Lord  Almighty  would  fix 
the  charge  of  ingratitude  against  him  in  behalf  of  Edward.  Wben 
'*  William  the  Silent,"  who  was  kept  as  a  hostage  of  Spain,  got 
back  to  Holland,  maddened  into  rebellion,  he  made  Holland  a  repub- 
lic. Is  he  a  wolf  ?  You  might  see  the  fathers  of  '76  bending  in 
gratitude  before  bun  that  taught  them  to  be  free  ;  and  nobody  calls 
him  "  a  wolf."  But  you  see,  O'Neil  i3  "  a  wolf,"  because  he  is  an 
Irishman.  Well,  take  Henry  Grattan.  Mr.  Froude  says :  "  Henry 
Grattan  was  an  honorable  man ;  but  he  had  no  common-sense  ;"  be- 
cause, he  says, — "with  infinite  folly,  in  1782,  when  England  was 
sta^ering  under  the  success  of  the  American  rebellion,  Grattan, 
with  statesmanlike  policy,  seized  the  happy  moment  to  compel 
Charles  James  Fox  to  grant  Ireland  a  Constitution."  But,  mark 
you,  this  decisive  statesmanship  of  the  Irish  leaders  was  well  ap- 
proved and  singularly  correct ;  for  Mr.  Froude  is  obliged  to  confess,  ^ 
all  along,  that  the  Irish  seized  every  moment  of  weakness ;  for  the 
only  boons  they  ever  got  from  England, — she  never  gave  anything 
out  of  a  sense  of  justice, — came  from  her  fears.  Well,  now  he  says, 
"  Mr.  Grattan  got  his  Constitution;  but  the  Irish  were  not  fit  for  it. 
The  Celtic  race  do  not  desire  a  Constitution."  And  then  he  says : 
"  How  I  should  like  to  have  met  Henry  Grattan,  in  Dublin,  a  week 
after,  I  would  have  said  to  him :  '  Mr.  Grattan,  is  bread  any  cheap- 
er ?  Are  rents  lower  in  Dublin  since  you  have  got  the  Constitution  ? 
Are  wages  any  higher  ? '  "  And  then  he  enjoyed  a  little  his  own  ex- 
quisite wit  in  painting  the  picture.  I  thought  to  myself,  suppose  he 
had  met  John  Hancock  ta  Boston,  a  month  after  he  had  signed  his 
name  to  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  say  in  August,  1776,  and 
said  to  him : — "  Mr.  Hancock,  is  bread  any  cheaper  in  Boston  ?  Are 
rents  any  lower?  Are  wages  any  higher,  Mr.  Hancock?"  What 
would  Hancock  have  said  ? — Probably  he  would  have  replied  : — 
"  My  dear  sir,  there  is  no  bread ;  the  people  are  starving :  the  grass 
grows  in  the  streets : — and,  as  for  rent,  the  houses  are  empty :  tiiere 
are  no  wages."  But,  he  would  have  added,  if  he  could  have  read 
Lord  LoveU,  who  wrote  only  ten  years  afterwards : — "  The  man  that 


APPENDIX.  293 

loves  liberty  for  anything  but  liberty's  self,  is  made  to  be  a  slave." 
He  would  probably  have  said  to  him  :  "  Walk  with  me,  my  English 
brother,  into  State  street,  and  I  will  show  you  a  building  lot  that  I 
can  afford,  to  sell  you  at  the  rate  of  twenty-five  cents  the  acre ;  and 
in  1876,  you  may  cover  each  foot  of  that  earth,  half  an  inch  deep, 
with  coined  gold ;  and  you  can't  afford  to  buy  it,  because  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence."  But  this  impartial  Englishman  was 
going  to  make  Grattan  responsible  for  lack  of  sense,  because  he  did 
not  cure  the  evils  of  seven  hundred  years  of  oppression  in  seven 
weeks, — like  patent  pills  for  incurable  diseases.  But  he  says  :  "I 
-want  only  to  say  that  Grattan,  Wolfe  Tone,  Emmet,  and  other  Irish- 
men of  that  date,  were  foolish,  or  base,  or  carried  away  by  frenzy 
for  victory ; — they  were  enthusiasts — mere  balloons,  sent  up  to  de- 
ceive the  feelings  of  the  people :"  and  he  read  us  the  proclamation  of 
Wolfe  Tone  that  was  something  like  the  Southerners'  proclamation 
of  '62.  But  we  Americans  shrugged  our  shoulders,  and  said: 
"We  have  heard  of  such  proclamations;  but  they  fought  pretty 
well  in  Virginia  for  all  that."  He  said  those  frenzied  enthusiasts 
were  all  driven  out  of  their  wits,  and  made  perfect-  idiots,  by  the 
French  Revolution  that  came  athwart  their  paths.  Well,  Edmund 
Burke  said  that  same  French  Revolution  shook  the  heart  out  of 
Charles  James  Fox,  whose  heart  was  so  steeled  ;  and  if  we  had  not 
anchored  on  Washington,  it  would  have  touched  this  Republic  too. 
It  shook  the  plains  of  France  ;  its  rumble  was  heard  in  Scotland ; 
and  if,  in  the  face  of  history  and  of  the  facts,  that  violent  tornado 
unnerved  these, why  should  the  poor  Irishman  be  made  an  example 
of? 

But  Mr.  Froude  says,  after  '98  came  1800  ;  and  these  Irishmen 
actually  sold  out  their  Constitution.  *  ^  This  man  took  one  thousand 
pounds  ;  that  man  took  five  hundred  pounds  ;  that  other  man  took 
ten  thousand  pounds ;  and  all  these  patriots  of  Grattan's  stripe  actu- 
ally sold  out  Ireland."  And,  then,  he  said,  with  his  usual  epigram- 
matic assuming  of  metaphor: — "  The  nation  that  sells  its  votes  is 
not  fit  for  self-government."  He  first  said  that  here  in  New  York. 
Don't  you  think  we  need  to  send  over  to  the  England  of  conmion- 
sense,  who  will  offer  us  a  government  ?  And  as  I  looked  at  him  in 
his  demoralizii^  view, — this  patriot  that  never  heard  of  votes  being 
sold, — behind  him  I  saw,  in  English  history,  the  Duke  of  Newcastle 
being  bought  up,  with  half  the  members  of  the  House  of  Commons. 
I  saw  Lord  Chatham,  become  the  paymaster  of  the  English  forces, 
refusing  to  steal  the  interest  of  the  public  funds  and  put  it  in 
his  pocket ;  and  Grattan  says  such  honesty  astonished  Europe. 
Macaulay  says  such  integrity  was  not  known  among  politicians. 
Miss  Martineau  says  his  course  was  incredible,  and  "  such  profound 
disinterestedness  amazed  his  cotemporaries  !  "  Common  honesty 
astomshed  them  !  And  George  the  Second,  when  he  heard  of  it ; 
said :  ' '  Why,  such  conduct  is  an  honor  to  human  nature  !  "  That  an 
Englishman  does  not  steal  is  an  honor  to  human  nature  I  I  remem- 
bered that  the  Duke  of  Marlborough  put  his  foot  on  the  first  round 
of  the  ladder,  in  the  infamy  of  his  sister,  and  laid  the  foundation  of 
the  colossal  fortune  of  the  House  of  Marlborough,  with  the  five 


294 


APPENDIX, 


thousand  ponnds  g^ven  to  him  bj  the  mistress  of  Ghades  the  Sec- 
ond. I  remembered  that  Macaulaj  says  :  "  If  you  could  see  through 
the  dazzling  glory  of  the  soldier,  you  would  see  behind  it  the  most 
infamous  scoundrel  in  history."  I  remembered  that  that  House  of 
Lords  to  which  he  belonged  could  not  defend  one  half  of  tiieir  ac- 
tions in  any  court  that  respected  the  virtue  of  woman  or  the  integrity 
of  man.  I  remembered  that  English  judges,  piinces,  and  poets,  and 
even  "  Junius  "  himself,  were  bought  with  bribes  of  office,  and  never 
wrote  or  voted  afterwards.  I  remembered  that,  if  it  was  true,  that 
the  nation  that  sold  its  votes  needed  England's  help,  it  should  have 
been  necessary  to  send  the  troops  right  over  from  the  throne  of  Victo- 
ria, and  land  tiiem  at  Washington.  But,  singularly  enough^  the  fact 
was  half  a  century  from  the  inference.  Mr.  Froude  told  us  that  the 
Parliament  of  1798  sold  its  votes,  and,  therefore,  that  proved  that 
Celtic  Catholic  Irishmen  were  incapable  of  self-government !  The 
Parliament  of  Ninety-eight  sold  its  votes ;  therefore,  the  Catholic  Celt 
cannot  be  trusted  with  civil  rights  !  We  know  of  that  Padiament, 
that  iliere  was  not  a  Catholic  in  it.  Not  one  !  For  more  tiian  sixty 
years  it  was  held  illegal  to  have  a  Catholic  in  the  Irish  Parliament. 
One  half  of  its  members  were  Ei^lishmen,  and  the  other  half  were 
Irish  Protestants.  And,  if  three  hundred  FiUglishmen  and  Irish-bom 
Protestants  selUng  their  votes  proved  that  the  Celtic  Irishman  can- 
not be  trusted  with  civil  rights,  then  if  the  premises  have  got  'the 
disease  the  conclusion  won't  catoh  it.  Well,  that  was  Mr.  Froude^s 
picture  of  Gxattan;  and  if  you  doubt  me,  take  up  the  reports  of 
the  papers  and  you  will  find  it. 

Then  he  comes  to  O'Connell,  the  greatest  of  all.  O'Connell,  he 
said,  was  a  mere  platform  declaimer.  He  was  a  noisy  demagogue  in 
the  streets.  He  never  had  any  purpose  or  plan  that  could  secure 
the  respect  of  Englishmen.  He  never  had  anything  to  propose  that 
indicated  a  brain  to  establish  a  claim  to  self-respect  or  knowledge  of 
circumstances  that  required  English  interference.  That  was  his  pic- 
ture of  O'Connell.  Now  there  is  not  a  leaf  of  the  laurels  on  the 
brow  of  Gladstone, — and  it  is  fairly  covered  with  laurels, — there  is 
not  a  leaf  there  that  he  did  not  steal  from  Henry  Grattan  and  Daniel 
O'Connell.  George  Canning  went  into  his  grave,  and  fought  to  the 
day  of  his  death  for  Catholic  Emancipation  ;  and  when  Canning  had 
passed  to  his  death,  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  Sir  Robert  Peel, 
when  he  was  on  the  side  of  the  Tories,  became  terrified,  and  bound 
their  brows  with  the  laurels  that  belonged  to  panning.  It  was  in 
that  opposition  that  he  proved  to  the  world  that  they  wreathed  their 
wreath  for  him.  So,  too,  in  this  case,  the  disestablishment  of  the 
Church,  the  education  of  the  masses,  and  the  t^iure  of  land, — ^the 
three  great  normal  moves  on  the  chessboard  which  contribute  to  the 
claims  of  Gladstone  to  statesmanship  in  Irish  affairs, — Heniy  Grat- 
tan besieged  the  English  Government  by  a  life-long  begging  for 
these  very  three.  When  the  Melbourne  Administration  came  into 
office,  they  promised  O'Connell  all  that,  and  thus>shut  his  lips.  He 
closed  Conciliation  Hall,  stopped  hifl  agitation ;  and  he  brought  hia 
followers  to  sustain  the  Melbourne  Administration,  and  supported 
the  Government  on  all  oecaaioos.    He  was  a  silent,  luuaoved  siqp* 


APPENDIX.  295 

I>orter  of  the  Government,  and  nothing  else  bat  a  supporter  of 
the  Goyemment,  waiting,  hoping-,  believing  that  the  "Rngliahmen 
would  do  the  Irish  people  justice  in  all  these  very  points,  in  self-con- 
trol and  moderation,  ever  believing  in  the  T^glisb  Premier's  perfect 
appreciation  of  the  cause,  and  trusting  that  English  Statesmanship 
would  see  it.  So  he  remained.  And  when  that  wretched  failure 
had  destroyed  the  Melbourne  Administration,  he  again  took  up  the 
old  agitation  in  the  strongest  form.  But,  instead  of  an  empty  de- 
chumer,  O'Connell  is  the  most  remarkable  man  that  the  history  of 
the  last  fifty  years  in  England  has  'called  out ;  and  in  this  re8i)ect  he 
carried  on  his  agitation.  Agitation,  you  know,  is  an  old  word  with 
^  new  meaning,  which  Sir  Robert  Peel  defined  to  be  an  appeal  to  the 
conscience  of  a  people  to  mould  its  laws ;  an  appeal  to  the  thought 
and  the  principle  of  a  community  on  the  principle  of  common-sense ; . 
a  coUimon  action  to  ripen,  educate,  and  mould  political  sentiment. 
The  Abolitionists  were  agitators,  and  went  outside  politics  to  court 
public  opinion,  only  that  they  might  return  and  press  the  Government 
into  its  fetters.  William  Lloyd  Garrison  fairly  claimed  the  merit  of 
having  organized,  as  he  had  stated,  that  g^eat  movement.  He 
learned  his  lesson  at  the  feet  of  Daniel  O'Connell.  When  Richard 
Gobden,  defim'ng  the  law  in  the  omnipotence  of  the  people  of  Great 
Britain,  took  the  tax  from  bread  and  sent  the  loaves  unexpectedly 
to  the  starving  toilers,  he  learned  his  trade  at  the  feet  of  Danid. 
O'Connell.  Wilberforce,  before  him,  had  made  a  delicate  attempt, 
— a  superficial  example — to  achieve  it ;  but  Daniel  O'Connell  waa 
the  first  man  that  ever  actually  raised  himself  on  the  hearts  of  the 
masses. 

Now,  to  the  Code  of  which  I  have  spoken  as  resting  like  an  incu- 
bus on  the  Irish  people,  the  last  great  resistance  that  they  made  was 
in  1798.  Ireland  never  gained  a  point  in  her  battle  wi^  England, 
ostensibly,  except  when  she  took  advantage  of  some  critical  moment 
in  the  English  career.  As,  for  instance,  in  1782,  when  Henry  Grat- 
tan,  seeing  Great  Britain  staggering  under  the  success  of  our  revolu- 
tion, put  ^,000  Irishmen  into  the  field  and  compelled  Charles  James 
Fox  to  acknowledge  the  legislative  independence  of  Ireland.  It  was 
a  great  feat.  In  sixteen  years  afterwards,  by  corruption  and  brib- 
ery of  all  sorts,  the  Engrlish  Government  carried  the  Union ;  but  it 
was  preceded  by  the  last  great  effort  of  Ireland  to  shake  off  Her 
chains.  She  flung  herself  as  one  man  in  her  utter  despair  against 
the  omnipotence  of  the  sister  island ;  and  as  usual  she  was  trodden 
out  in  blood.  The  Protestant  soldiery,  maddened  with  religious 
hate,  originally  maddened  with  the  hatred  o&the  Saxon  to  the  Celt, 
were  let  loose  upon  the  Catholic  peasants ;  and  no  pen  can  describe 
the  picture  too  darkly.  As  Mr.  Froude  acknowledges,  in  1798, 
fathers  were  shot,  their  daughters  clinging  to  them, — one  bullet 
taking  both  lives.  Mothers  were  held  down  and  forced  to  look  on 
the  murder  of  child  after  child,  until  the  eye  refused  to  see.  Infants 
were  seized  from  the  bosoms  of  their  mothers,  and  were  tossed  with 
devilish  skiU  from  bayonet  point  to  bayonet  point  along  the  line  of 
half  a  company ;  daughters  were  outraged  in  the  presence  of  mother 
and  father,  to  whom  the  mercy  of  death  was  not  given  until  the 


296  APPENDIX, 

scene  was  ended.  Ireland  seemed  trodden  out  in  blood.  This  is 
the  hour  when  the  Irish  poet  puts  into  the  month  of  Fitzgerald 
these  saddest  of  all  lines : 

**  Oh  I  Ireland,  my  ooontzy,  the  hoar  of  thy  pride  and  thy  splendor  hath  passed. 
And  thy  chain,  that  was  borne  in  thy  moment  of  power,  hangs  heavy  aronnd  thee  at 

last. 
There  are  marks  on  the  &te  of  each  dime ;  there  are  tnms  in  the  f  ortmies  of  men ; 
But  the  changes  of  realms  or  the  chances  of  time  shall  never  restore  thee  again. 
Thoa  art  chained  to  the  wheel  of  the  foe,  hy  links  which  the  world  cannot  sever. 
With  thy  tyrant  throogh  stoim  and  throng  calm  thoa  shalt  go ;  and  thy  sentoioe  is 

— *  Banished  forever.' 

*  Thoa  art  doomed  for  the  vilest  to  toil :  thoa  art  left  for  the  prond  to  dlndaiTi ; 
And  the  blood  of  thy  sons  and  the  wealth  of  thy  seal  shall  be  lavished,  and  lavished  in 

vain. 
Thy  riches  with  tannts  shall  be  taken ;  thy  valor  with  gibes  is  repaid ; 
And  of  milli<ms  who  see  thee  now  ack  and  forsaken,  not  oaa  shall  stand  forth  in 

thine  aid. 
In  the  nations  thy  place  is  left  void ;  thoa  art  lost  in  the  list  of  the  free; 
Even  realms,  by  the  plagoe  or  the  earthqoake  destroyed,  are  revived ;  bat  no  hope  ia 

for  thee." 

It  was  at  this  moment,  when  the  dond  came  down  dose  to  earth, 
that  O'Gonnell,  then  a  jonng  lawyer  jnst  admitted  to  the  bar,  flung 
himsftlf  iu  front  of  his  countrymen,  and  begged  them  to  make  one 
grand  effort.  I  say  just  admitted  to  the  b^,  because,  as  I  said,  in 
1792,  relaxing  the  Code,  as  Great  Britain  always  did  when  she 
trembled — and  then  she  trembled  before  the  French  Bevolution — she 
granted  to  the  Catholic  the  right  to  Tote  if  he  voted  for  a  Protestant. 
And  she  granted  to  the  Catholic  lawyer  the  right  to  appearance  in 
some  courts.  O'ConneU  submitted  to  the  conditions,  and  was  ad- 
mitted to  the  bar. 

He  claimed  of  his  people  a  new  effort.  When  he  first  pledged 
biTnap.lf  to  Catholic  Emancipation,  the  people  and  the  prelates  of 
Ireland  said  :  "  It  is  not  in  our  power  to  acMeye  it "  The  hierarchy 
of  the  Church  held  aloof  from  him,  and  said :  "We  have  seen  our 
flocks  led  up  to  the  scaffold  a  hundred  times  in  vain,  within  these 
two  hundred  years;  and  we  have  no  heart  for  a  second  effort." 
No  Press  before  bini ;  no  room  for  a  pedestal ;  no  social  position 
for  his  lever,  O'ConneU  saw  four  millions  of  Irishmen,  poverty- 
stricken,  broken-hearted,  demoralized,  ignorant  beyond  descrip- 
tion, standing  on  the  soU  soaked  with  the  blood  of  their  ancestors, 
and  disheartened  for  the  moment.  The  Peerage  of  Ireland  repudi- 
ated -him.  They  said :  "  We  have  struggled  for  half  a  dozen  cen- 
turies; it  is  better  to  sit  down  content."  AU  the  nobility  were  on 
the  one  side,  and  the  hierarchy  of  the  Church  on  the  other.  O'Con- 
neU said :  "I  will  mould  these  four  millions  of  hearts  into  a  thunder- 
bolt to  demolish  the  omnipotence  of  Great  Britain :  "  and  he  did  it. 
He  laid  down,  for  the  first  time  in  history,  the  great  comer  principle 
of  this  constitutional  method.    He  said:  "No  political  change  ia 


APPENDIX,  297 

worth  the  ghedding  of  a  drop  of  hnman  blood. "  England  covered  Ire- 
land with  her  red-coats ;  every  commanding  point  was  held  by  can- 
non :  and  O'Connell  looked  in  the  face  of  such  a  government, — pan- 
oplied in  complete  eteel,  armed  cap-d-pie,  from  head  to  foot ;  and  he 
renewed  his  pledge — ' '  I  will  never  draw  the  sword. "  France,  when 
she  wants  to  gain  a  step,  draws  the  sword.  France,  with  a  x)atriotic 
pohtical  idea,  throws  the  king  out  of  his  throne.  England,  walking 
forward  in  her  dominant,  unbroken  pr(^ess,  called  out,  ^'  I  moII  not 
ask  your  reason; — I  do  not  want  to  argue  with  you;"  until  she 
learned  O'Connell's  inspiration.  He  was  the  first  man  that  reduced 
the  instinctive  groupings  of  English  thought  into  a  system.  Well^ 
he  laid  down  another  plea:  *' Nothing  is  politically  right  that  is 
moraUy  wrong."  No  trimming  of  principles  for  success :  no  deny- 
ing one  truth  to  help  another ;  no  taking  a  scrap  from  the  devil's 
gospel  of  "  compromise,"  so  current  in  this  country.  His  creed  was, 
"  I  will  succeed  by  a  full  confession  of  all  the  truths  that  God  shows 
me,  or  I  will  not  succeed  at  all !"  That  is  the  difference  between 
the  poUtidan,  who  reaps  the  harvest  of  to-day,  and  the  agitator, — 
he  who  plants  for  to-morrow.  You  know  what  William  H.  Seward 
said — (I  told  you  the  story  two  years  ago).  Sitting  with  an  anti- 
slavery  friend  in  his  parlor,  Seward  said  to  him ; — (and  Seward  was 
the  g^reat,  finished  exemplification  of  the  perfect  politician  of  his 
age  ;  his  whole  life  answers  back  to  the  claims  of  the  adroit,  unmis- 
taking  politician ;  he  never  made  a  mistake,  until  his  brain  was 
darkened  by  the  first  gun  from  Sumter;)  he  said  to  this  friend: 
''  Tell  me  the  purpose  and  method  of  this  movement."  His  anti- 
slavery  friend  explained  them  to  him ;  and,  when  he  had  ended, 
Seward  said  :  "  WeU,  now  we  are  all  right  Your  method,  with 
you,  is  the  correct  view  of  the  question."  His  wife,  who  sat  near, 
called  out  to  him :  "Why,  William,  1  never  heard  you  say  anything 
that  pleased  me  so  much."  The  old  politician  turned  quickly  to  her 
and  said :  "My  dear,  you  do  not  suppose,  now,  that  I  would  be  such 
a  fool  as  to  confess  that  outside  this  room  ?  "  Of  course  not.  Had 
he  done  that,  he  would  have  ceased  to  be  the  politician, — ^the  reaper 
of  the  ripe  harvest ;  the  representative  of  accepted  opinion :  he  would 
have  become  the  a^fitator. 

O'Connell  planted  seed  for  the  future.  The  first  time  I  ever  had 
the  honor  to  meet  Seward  was  in  the  United  States  Court  I  had 
made  a  speech,  the  night  before,  on  public  opinion ;  and  he  came  to 
me  and  said  : — "  I  have  read  your  speech ;  it  is  all  true.  Grp  round, 
my  young  friend  ;  make  speeches  to  ripen  and  educate  public  opin- 
ion :  and,  you  know,  I  will  make  use  of  it  for  mysell"  It  was  ex- 
actly the  description  of  the  functions  of  the  poUtician. 

O'Connell  was  the  first  man  that  ever  marked  out  the  limits,  and 
solemnly  devoted  himself  to  the  work,  of  an  agitator.  Standing, 
twenty  years  after  his  death,  and  to-day,  measuring  the  means 
which  he  had  at  his  command,  no  man  in  history  ever  did  so  much, 
measuring  the  m6ans  he  used.  You'know  I  may  claim  for  him,  as 
I  do  for  Grattan, — for  he  Y^as  only  Grattan's  counterpart  and  pupil, 
— that  he  anticipated  every  movement  which  the  British  statesman 
is  led  to  adopt  to-day.    Ird^nd  had  bled  fox  half  a  dozen  centoiies, 

IS* 


298  APPENDIX. 

waiting  for  the  harvest  to  ripen.  And  O'Connell  knew  the  very 
things  that  England  timidly  attempts  to  propose  to-day. 

When  O'Connell  first  commenced  his  career, — finding  the  public 
haUs  closed  against  all  agitation, — he  said  : — '*  If  nine  men  will  meet 
me  at  the  Dublin  Hotel,  at  nine  o'clock,  on  such  a  day,  I  will  com- 
mence an  agitation  for  the  repeal  of  the  Cathohc  disabilities." 
When  that  hour  came  there  were  only  seven  men  in  the  room,  and 
after  waiting  till  four,  O'Connell  went  down  into  the  fetreet.  seized 
two  young  priests  by  the  shoulders,  dragged  them  into  the  room, 
locked  the  door,  put  the  key  into  his  x>ocket,  and  had  his  nine  men. 
Two  of  them,  it  is  true,  were  virtually  prisoners :  but  before  these 
ten  men,  who  met  in  an  upper  room,  the  proudest  government  in 
Europe,  and  the  most  selfish, — with  the  Duke  of  Wellington  at  their 
head, — surrendered  within  twenty  years. 

O'Connell  started  out  with  infinite  patience  to  plant  the  seed  of 
Irish  opinion.  Lowell  Russell  says:  "Patience  is  the  passion  of 
great  souls."  And  it  has  been  emphatically  true  of  O'Connell.  If 
there  is  any  key  to  his  marvellous  success,  it  is  certainly  the  patience 
with  which  he  persevered  in  his  method.  He  said,  at  this  time : 
*'  I  have  no  weapon,  no  wand,  but  the  Irish  '  code.'  I  should  have 
no  fulcrum  for  my  lever  if  England  did  not  give  me  the  '  code.' " 
It  was  O'Connell's  weapon,  and  he  stirred  up  such  a  storm  in  Ire- 
land, that  England  trembled  before  the  protest  of  civilized  Europe. 
I  told  you  he  had  only  four  millions  of  Irish  hearts.  He  had  Ho 
Press.  The  masses  could  not  read.  He  could  not  even  marshal 
them  into  a  party, — ^that  great  weapon  which  Sam  Adams  invented, 
the  most  statesman-like  brain  that  God  gave  to  us  in  '76.  It  was 
Sam  Adams's  Yankee  brain  that  struck  out  the  "  Committees  of  Cor- 
respondence;" one  in  Charleston,  another  in  New  York,  another  in 
Boston,  another  in  Philadelphia ;  and  so  melted  the  thirteen  colo- 
nies into  one  thunderbolt,  and  hurled  it  at  Geoige  the  Third. 
O'Connell  could  not  do  that,  for  the  English  Convention  Act  said : 
"  No  political  committee  shall  correspond  with  any  other."  Dublin 
shall  not  know  Limerick,  and  Wexford  shall  not  know  Cork ;  they 
must  remain  isolated.  That  was  English  poUcy.  There  stood 
O'Connell.  Well,  now,  what  did  he  need  ?  What  did  any  Irishman 
need  at  that  day  ?  The  first  thing  he  needed,  to  be  a  leader,  was  to 
be  what  the  Irish  call  a  gentleman,  every  inch  of  him ;  what  they 
call  a  gentleman  from  the  crown  of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  his  foot ; 
meaning  that  he  could  trace  his  lineage  back  to  the  royal  stock  of 
Ireland.  O'Connell  could  do  that.  Secondly,  the  man  that  aspired 
to  be  a  leader  in  Ireland,  must  have  proved  his  physical  courage, 
either  in  the  duel  or  in  war.  The  statesman  is  very  well ;  an  orator 
was  still  bettet ;  a  lawyer  was  something ;  but  to  be  an  Irish  leader, 
he  must  have  proved  his  courage  with  tiie  pistol.  Mr.  Froude  gave 
us  a  clever  illustration  of  that,  when  he  sppke  of  an  English  Secre- 
tary to  the  Lord  Lieutenant,  who  found,  when  he  landed  in  Dublin, 
and  went  up  to  his  hotel,  "  a  challenge  on  the  dressing-table  from  a 
man  whom  he  had  never  seen."  Of  course  the  object  was  to  see 
whether  he  was  '^  a  gentleman."  Well,  he  accepted  the  challec^ 
and  went  out.     He  was  given  the  right  to  shoot  first ;  he  fired  in 


APPENDIX.      -  299 

the  air.  Then  the  Irishman  took  aini  at  him,  and  his  pistol  missed 
fire ;  he  tried  again,  and  again  it  missed ;  and  a  third  time,  and  it 
missed ;  when  the  Englishman  observed :  '-  Sir,  there  must  be 
something  the  matter  with  yonr  flint."  Well,  the  Irishman  picked 
his  flint  and  fired ;  and  the  bullet  went  through  the  Englishman's 
hat.  It  was  the  Irishman's  turn  to  fire  first,  the  second  round ;  he 
fired  and  missed.  The  Englishman  was  about  to  fire  in  the  air,  as 
before,  when  the  Irishman  called  out:  "Take  care:  no  more  of 
that ;  if  you  fire  in  the  air  again,  I  will  take  it  as  a  second  insult  1 " 
So  the  Englishman  took  aim  at  him  and  missed ;  and  they  were 
good  friends  ever  afterwards.  He  had  established  his  reputation, 
as  Mr.  Fronde  acknowledges.  O'Gonnell,  bred  at  St.  Omer's,  had 
the  greatest  scruples  against  &  duel ;  and  when  he  began  to  be  au- 
thoritatively noticed,  and  it  was  known  that  there  was  no  Way  out 
of  a  public  insult,  but  either  to  fight  a  duel  or  leave  the  fiaLd,  a 
Major  D'Esterre,  agent  of  the  Dublin  Corporation,  visited  him,  for 
three  weeks,  with  continual  insult  i^  the  papers.  O'Connell,  at 
last,  accepted  the  challenge,  and  spent  all  the  time,  up  to  the  hour 
of  meeting,  in  efforts  to  avoid  the  duel ;  all  of  which  was  attributed 
to  cowardice  by  his  adversaries.  But,  when  they  met,  he  said  to 
his  second:  "I*  shall  never  seek  his  life;  I  shall  fire  into  the 
ground. "  But  you  know  that,  in  early  practice  with  the  pistol;  you  fire 
higher  than  you  think  you  aim.  O'GonneU's  shot  took  effect  above 
the  knee ;  and  D'Esterre  died  of  the  wound  within  a  week.  O'Con- 
nell then  recorded  a  v(TW  against  duelling,  and  settled  a  thousand 
pounds  annuity  on  the  widow  of  his  antagonist.  And,  ten  years 
afterwards,  when  he  had  ten  thousand  pounds'  worth  of  briefs,  in  a 
northern  court,  he  flung  them  away,  and  went  to  the  southern  ex- 
tremity of  the  island,  and  defend^,  gratuitously,  the  last  acre  of 
Madame  D'Esterre,  and  saved  it  for  her.  After  that,  his  sons 
fought  his  duels.  When  Disraeli,  who  was  just  rising  on  the  politi- 
cal horizon,  sent  a  challenge  to  O'Connell,  O'Connell  put  it  in  his 
pocket.  But  Disraeli  sent  a  copy  of  it  to  the  London  Timea^  which 
published  it.  Whereupon,  Maurice,  the  son  of  O'Connell,  sent  the 
Jew  a  message  that  if  he  really  wished  to  fight,  there  was  an  O'Con- 
nell that  would  accommodate  him,  although  his  name  was  not 
Daniel.     But  Disraeli  did  not  continue  the  correspondence. 

Third,  a  man,  to  be  an  Irish  leader,  must  have  a  reputation  for 
great  sagacity.  O'Connell  saw  that  this  mass  of  men  hkd  to  be  lifted 
up.  Their  fathers  had  always  ended  on  the  scaffold.  O'Connell 
said :  "  Follow  me :  put  your  foot  in  where  my  foot  has  trod ;  and 
I  will  guarantee  that  the  sheriff  will  never  touch  your  shoulder." 
And,  for  thirty -years,  watdied  by  the  lynx-eyed  malignity  of 
London  law,  he  .did  lift  those  millions ;  he  did  hurl  them  at  each 
successive  Government ;  and  no  sheriff  ever  put  his  hand  upon  the 
shoulder  of  one  of  his  followers.  And,  when  an  arrogant  Bench 
sent  him  to  jail,  in  the  last  few  years  of  his  life,  he  appealed  to  the 
House  of  Lords,  on  the  construction  of  the  statute  ;  and  England 
itself  sustained  him, — sustained  him  alone  against  the  twelve  judges 
of  Ireland. 

Fourthly,  he  must  have  eloquence, — ^that  which  melts  a  milli(tn 


300 


APPENDIX. 


heaxts  into  one;  and  I  shall  have  a  word  to  say  of  that  in  a 
moment.  O^Connell  went  about,  as  I  said  ;  and,  finally,  somebody 
snggested  that  he  should  ask  for  a  penny  a  week  from  every  Irish- 
man, the  world  over, — O'Connell's  "  rent."  Finally,  it  became  fifty 
thousand  pounds  a  year ;  and  the  only  charge  made  against  him  is 
that  he  used  this  money  for  himself.  To  Bishop  England,  of  South 
Carolina,  near  the  last  years  of  his  life,  he  wrote  a  letter  in  which 
he  said  :  "I  began  life  poor.  My  Uncle  Maurice,  at  ninety,  died  in 
the  French  service,  and  left  me  five  thousand  pounds  a  year,  I 
have  made  ten  thousand  pounds  a  year  by  my  profession.  And  yet, 
with  the  rent  of  lands  flowing  into  my  hands,  I  am  a  jKwrer  man  to- 
day than  I  was  when  I  set  out."  If  the  guineas  came  into  his 
hands,  they  never  stopped  there.  Somebody  said :  "Set  up  jour- 
nals." He  set  up  papers;  and  his  protest  was  heard  wherever  the 
English  language  was  spoken.  And  the  London  Press, — the  London 
Times  beg^n  to  measure  the  young  giant  that  was  slowly  lifting 
himself  on  the  blood-stained  sod  of  Ireland. 

The  Government  became  alarmed.  They  said,  it  is  in  vain  that 
we  isolate  Dublin  from  Cork.  This  man  has  struck  the  roots  with  a 
single  committee  so  deep  that  he  can  defy  the  law.  And  they  added 
this  clause,  "  No  political  committee  shall  last  mo]:e  than  fourteen 
days."  .With  infinite  patience,  O'ConneU  went  from  city  to  city, 
and  had  a  committee,  a  President,  a  Vice-President,  a  Secretary,  a 
Treasurer,  and  a  list  of  officers ;  held  a  meeting ;  passed  resolu- 
tions ;  made  speeches  ;  and,  in  fourteen  days,  aU  finished,  and  he 
had  another  committee,  with  another  President,  Vice-President, 
Secretary,  Treasurer, — officers  who  made  speeches,  passed  resolu- 
tions, and  again  vanished ;  and,  after  them,  another. 

So  the  agitation  went  on.  ,  The  Government,  as  a  last  re- 
source, sent  the  Earl  of  Anglesey,  witii  instructions  to  crush  all 
political  committeea  When  he  entered  the  harbor  of  Dublin, 
O'ConneU  showed  his  great  power  over  the  masses.  There  never 
had  an  English  Lord  lieutenant  landed,  that  the  people,  with  their 
forgetful,  generous  impulses,  had  not  poured  out  to  welcome  him, 
hoping  and  expecting  that  he  would  do  them  justice.  But  when 
Anglesey  landed,  O'Connell  issued  an  order :  *'  Let  every  Irishman 
that  loves  England  go  to  the  wharf;  and  let  every  Irishman  that 
loves  his  country  stay  at  home."  The  next  morning,  when  Angle- 
sey stood  with  his  hundreds  of  Queen's  Guards  around  him,  there 
was  not  an  Irishman  to  look  him  in  the  face.  He  went  to  the 
Castle,  and  issued  an  order  forbidding  all  political  meetings  in  three 
or  four  great  districts.  O'ConneUilJiet  him  thus :  The  day  after,  he 
invited  his  friends  to  a  breakfast  at  the  Dublin  Hotel,  where,  seated 
at  the  head  of  the  table,  with  a  buttered  muffin  in  one  hand,  and  a 
cup  of  tea  in  the  other, — and  every  man  present  had  a  buttered 
muffin  and  a  cup  of  tea, — they  talked  politics.  It  was  not  a  meet- 
ing, but  a  brealdfast.  And  Limerick  had  buttered  muffins,  and  Cork 
had  cups  of  tea.     And  so  it  went  on. 

I  ought  to  have  told  you,  that  in  1802,  the  Government  became 
alarmed  at  the  progress  of  the  French  Revolution,  xmd  conferred  the 
franchise  on  the   "  Forty-shilling  Freeholders,"  and  the  Catholics 


APPENDIX,  301 

were  allowed  to  vote,  if  they  voted  for  a  Protestant.  O'Connell 
said  to  these  "  Forty-shilling  Freeholders ; "  "  Heretofore  you  have 
voted  for  the  two  men  as  the  landlord  told  you  to.  Hereafter  give 
him  one  vote ;  but  let  the  other  be  for  a  Protestant  who  will  give  us 
justice."  Then  came  the  crucifixion  and  the  agony  of  the  struggle. 
The  Negroes  walk  to  the  ballot-box  between  loaded  revolvers  ; 
death  on  either  side.  The  Irishman  walked  in  similar  peril.  He 
held  his  little  plot  of  ground  by  no  tenure ;  and  in  thirty  minutes 
he,  with  his  wife  and  children,  might  be  on  the  highway.  And  that 
meant  starvation.  Shell  tells  a  story  of  an  Irishman  he  saw  leaning 
on  the  hustings, — a  stalwart  fellow, — being  catechised  by  his  land- 
lord :  "  Pat,  for  whom  was  your  first  vote  ?"  "  For  the  land,  your 
honor"  (the  candidate  was  the  landlord's  nephew).  "For  whom 
was  your  second  ?  "  Then,  says  Shiel,  "The  strong  man  trembled 
like  a  reed :  his  knees  smote  together :  a  cold  sweat  stood  on  his 
brow ;  and,  hardly  able  to  articijdate  a  word,  he  faltered  out  the 
name  of  O'Gonnell's  candidate ;  and  fainted  at  the  feet  of  the 
questioner  1 "  Well  he  might.  He  saw  already  his  wife  and  child 
on  the  highway ;  and  that  was  death !  Twenty  thousand  men 
crowded  up  to  Dublin.  O'Connell  fed  them  for  thirty  days ;  and  at 
last,  driven  to  the  wall,  he  thundered  out  to  the  landlords,  the  threat, 
"Look  to  your  castles  1 "  He  remembered  how  deeply  they,  were 
mortgaged  ;  and  knowing  the  vast  revenue  he  could  command,  he 
said  :  "  Look  to  your  castles, — ^look  to  your  mortgages, — for,  by  the 
Almighty  God,  if  you  turn  men  out  of  their  holdi^s,  we  will  buy 
up  your  mortgfages  and  turn  you  out  of  your  castles." 

At  last,  feelmg  stronger  still,  he  said  to  the  Catholics  of  the 
connty  of  Clare  :  "  Send  me  to  the  House  of  Commons.  Catholic 
as  I  am,  send  me  to  that  House.  To  none  should  its  doors  be 
closed.  I  daim  that,  by  the  spirit  of  the  British  law,  no  man  can 
lose  his  civil  rights  through  his  creed."  And,  in  1828,  throwing  oft 
the  influence  of  the  ducal  house  of  Fitzgerald,  Clare  sent  O'Connell 
to  Parliament ;  and,  in  the  Spring  of  1829,  he  came  to  London  to 
take  bis  seat.  It  was  the  great  crisis  of  the  movement,  and  the 
English  press  knew  (hat  the  hour  hisid  come.  Every  square  foot  in 
the  House  of  Commons  was  a  face,  as  the  massive  form  of  O'Con- 
nell marched  up  the  aisle  to  the  clerk's  desk.  They  handed  him  the 
two  oaths  that  had  barred  that  door  against  the  Catholics  for  cen- 
turies. One  was  an  oath  abjuring  the  Pope  ;  and  the  other  was  an 
oath  denying  the  doctrines  of  the  CathoUo  Church.  With  ostenta- 
tious deliberation,  in  the  finest  tones  of  his  unrivalled  voice,  O'Con- 
neU  read  them  both  aloud ;  and  then,  amid  breathless  silence,  he 
said :  "  Mr.  Speaker,  that  I  know  to  be  a  lie ;  and  this  I  believe  to 
be  one."  They  sent  him  to  the  bar  to  argue  his  case:  and,  in  a  speech 
of  four  hours,  which  even  Brougham,  who  was  one  incarnate  hate  of 
0'ConneIl,-^ven  Brougham  allows  that  it  was  an  argument  of  mas- 
teily  abiUty, — he  demonstrated  that,  if  it  could  be  proved,  an  English 
subject  cannot  forfeit  his  rights  by  his  creed.  They  voted,  ^-one 
hundred  and  sixteen  to  sixty, — that  he  had  no  rights.  But  it  was 
18S9.  Eighteen  hundred  and  thirty  was  the  year  of  the  Bevola- 
tion:  the  year  that  tossed  Chades  the  Tent^  out  of  Pans  into 


303  APPBIfDIX. 

^cotiand,  to  die  in  exile ;  the  year  that  eent  a  dosen  kings  flying 
along  the  highways  of  Eoiope.  The  Duke  of  Wellingtcm  heard  the 
rambling  of  the  coming  earthquake.  He  saw  the  storm  gathering 
on  the  horizon.  He  knew,  when  England  wanted  an  army,  where  it 
had  to  be  recmited.  He  was  unwilling  that  O^Gonnell  should  go 
home  and  tell  the  Irish  Catholics  that  they  had  no  rights  that  Great 
Britain  intended  to  respect.  And,  before  O'Gounell  could  go  back 
to  Dublin,  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  Sir  Robert  Peel  swept  from 
the  Statute  Book  every  yestige  but  one  of  the  code  of  Elizabeth. 
It  was  the  proudest  government  in  Europe,  "  with  the  Iron  Duke  '* 
at  its  head,  surrendering  to  those  ten  men  in  an  upper  room  in  a 
hotel  in  Dublin ! 

O'Connell  owed  it  to  his  eloquence.  I  do  not  think  I  should  ex- 
aggerate if  I  said,  that  God,  since  He  made  Demosthenes,  never 
made  a  man  so  fit  for  the  great  work  as  He  did  O'Connell.  You 
may  thin|:  I  am  partial  to  my  hero,  very  naturally.  But  John  Ban- 
dolph,  of  Boanoke,  who  hated  an  Irishman  almost  as  much  as  he 
did  a  Yankee,  when  he  got  to  London  and  heard  O'Connell,  held  up 
his  hands,  and  said  :  '"''  This  is  the  man — ^those  are  the  lips,  the  moi^ 
eloquent  that  8x)eak  English  in  my  day.  *^  And  I  think  he  was  right. 
Webster  could  address  a  bench  of  judges  ;  Everett  could  charm  a 
coU^e ;  Choate  could  delude  a  jury ;  Clay  could  magnetize  a  Sen- 
ate ;  Tom  Corwm  could  hold  the  mob  in  his  right  hand  ;  but  no  one 
of  them  could  do  but  that  one  thing.  The  wonder  of  O^Connell  was 
that  he  could  out-talk  Corwin ;  he  could  charm  a  collie  better  than 
Everett ;  delude  a  jury  better  than  Choate,  and  leave  Clay  hini&elf 
far  behind  in  magnetizing  a  Senate.  I  have  heard  all  the  grand  and 
majestic  orators  of  America,  who  are  singularly  famed  on  the  world's 
circumference.  I  know  what  was  the  majesty  of  Webster ;  I  know 
what  it  was  to  melt  under  the  magnetism  of  Henry  Clay ;  I  have 
seen  eloquence  in  the  iron  logic  of  Calhoun ;  but  all  three  together 
never  surpassed,  and  no  one  of  thenTever  equalled,  the  great  Irish- 
man. In  the  first  place,  he  had — what  is  half  the  power  with  a 
popular  orator, — ^he  had  a  majestic  presence.  .  God  put  that  royal 
soul  into  a  body  as  royaL  He  had  in  eariy  youth  the  brow  of  Jupi- 
ter and  the  stature  of  Ajmllo :  a  little  O'Connell  would  have  been 
no  O'Connell  at  all.  Sydney  Smith  said  of  Lord  John  Bussell's  five 
feet  nothing,  that,^  when  he  went  down  to  Yorkshire,  after  the  Be- 
f  orm  Bill  had  been  carried,  the  stalwart  hunters  of  the  shire  said : 
"  That  little  shrimp  !  What,  he  cany  the  Reform  Bill  ?  "  ''  No, 
no,'*  said  Sydney ;  '^  no,  he  was  a  large  man ;  but  the  labors  of  the 
Bill  shrunk  him."  Do  you  remember  the  story  of  Webster,  that 
Russell  Lowell  tells,  when  we,  in  Massachusetts,  were  about  to  break 
up  the  Whig  party.  Webster  came  home  to  Faneuil  Hall  to  protest ; 
and  four  thousand  Whigs  went  there  to  meet  him.  He  lifted  up 
that  majestic  presence  before  the  sea  of  human  faces,  his  brow 
charged  with  thunder ;  and  he  said  :  **  I  am  a  Whig, — a  Massachu- 
setts Whig, — a  revolutionary  Whig, — a  constitutional  Whig, — a  Fan- 
euil Hall  Whig.  And,  if  you  break  up  the  Whig  party,  where  am  I 
to  go  ?  "  And  Russell  Lowell  says :  *■*■  We  held  our  breaths,  thinking 
wlwre  he  could  go.     But  if  he  had  been  five  feet  five,"  said  Lowel^ 


APPSITDIX.  i03 

"  we  would  hare  said :  *  Well,  hang  it,  who  cares  where  yim.  go !  "* 
Well,  O^Gonnell  had  all  that.  Then  he  had,  beside,  what  Webster 
never  had,  and  what  Gla^Thad — the  magnetism  and  grace  that  melted 
a  milli(m  sonls  into  his.  When  I  saw  him,  he  was  ax^irixp  lithe 
as  a  boj :  his  every  attitade  was  beauty ;  every  gesture  was  grace. 
Hacready  or  Booth  never  equalled  him.  Why,  it  would  have  been 
delightfol  even  to  look  at  him^  if  he  had  not  spoken  at  all ;  and  'all 
you  thought  of  was  a  greyhound.  Then  he  had, — what  so.  few 
American  speakers  have, — a  voice  that  sounded  the  gamut,  I  heard 
him  once,  in  Exeter  Hall,  say — "  Americans,  I  send  my  voice  career- 
ing, like  the  thunder-storm,  across  the  Atlantic,  to  tell  South  Caro- 
lina that  6od*s  thunderbolts  are  hot ;  and  to  remind  the  N^ro  that 
the  dawn  of  his  redemption  is  breaking."  And  I  seemed  to  hear 
the  answer  come  re-echoing  back  to  London  from  the  Bodgr  Moun- 
taina  And,  then,  with  the  slightest  possible  flavor  of  an  Irish 
brogue,  he  would  tell  a  story  that  would  make  all  Exeter  Hall  laugh. 
And,  tiie  next  moment,  tears  were  in  his  voice,  like  an  old  song ; 
and  five  thousand  men  would  be  in  tears.  And  he  never  made  an 
effort.  You  would  go  out  of  this  hall  after  hearing  Mr.  Sumner,  or 
any  other  orator,  and  you  would  say :  '^  What  a  magnificent  effort  1 " 
Well,  no  man  would  ever  use  the  wozd  effort  with  O'Gonnell.  I 
heard  him  twenty  times;  and  I  never  saw  him  more  than  three 
times  at  the  full  sweep  of  his  power.  You  would  get  provoked  that 
he  did  not ;  and  you  would  say  :  **  Oh,  what  a  magnificent  creature 
he  would  be,  if  he  would  only  try ! "  But  he  would  not  "  try." 
B!e  abounded  in  wit,  and  in  the  midst  of  an  argument  he  would  dis- 
concert you  with  a  retort  that  would  pierce  you  like  a  rapier  under 
the  fifth  rib ;  while  his  wit  was  not  disconcerted  by  any  order  of 
circumstances.  I  remember  once,  when  he  was  hunting  in  Deny- 
nane,  he  was  summoned  from  the  field  to  defend  a  young  peasant, 
who  was  charged  with  murder.  The  evidence  was  circumstantial, 
and  gathered  around  a  hat  found  near  the  body  of  the  murdered 
man  on  the  highway.  The  counsel  made  efforts  to  break  down 
the  testimony  i^ainst  the  prisoner,  to  make  the  witness  for  the 
prosecution  confuse  and  contradict  his  testimony ;  but  all  in 
vain.  At  last,  they  sent  for  O^GonnelL  He  entered ;  and,  throw- 
ing his  riding  wliip  on  the  table,  he  picked  up  the  liat  and  said : 
''  Pat,  whose  hat  is  this  ?  "  ''  Mike's,  Mr.  O'GonneU."  ''But  yoa 
don't  know?"  "But  I  da"  '' You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  will 
swear  to  it  ? '!  *'  But  I  will."  ''  Pat,  do  you  know  what  rests  on 
your  word  ? — a  human  life !  And  with  that  dread  burden  before 
you,  are  you  ready  to  say  that,  on  your  perscmal  knowledge,  this  is 
the  hat  tibat  you  found — the  hat  that  belongs  to  the  prisoner?" 
*' Indeed,  I  am."  O'Connell  peeps  into  ti^e  hat  ttod  reads: 
"  J-a-m-e-8 — James.  If  this  is  Mike's  hat,  how  came  the  name  of 
James  in  it,  Pat  ? "  '*  Indeed,  then,  it  is ;  for  I  read  it  myself 
when  I  picked  the  hat  up."  ''  There  is  no  name  in  the  hat,  my 
lord,"  said  O'GonneU.     His  client  was  saved. 

So,  when  he  entered  the  House  of  Commons, — ^for  going  back  to 
the  ooxmty  Clare,  they  sent  him  again  to  his  seat  in  '31,— the  Lon- 
don Tinet  ahowerad.  him  with  ininiltB,  tamed  lus  ^>eechite  ingide 


304  APPENDIX, 

out,  reported  him  wrong,  and  made  him  talk  nonsense.  "When,  at 
last,  he  arose  one  day,  and  said:  "Mr.  Speaker,  for  thirty  hard 
years  have  I  toiled  for  the  right  to  open  my  lips  under  this  roof. 
You  know,  Mr.  Speaker,  that  I  have  never  opened  my  mouth  here 
but  in  behalf  of  the  saddest  people  that  the  king  governs.  Is  it 
fair  play  ? — is  it  what  you  call  English  fair  play,  that  the  Press  will 
not  let  me  be  heard  ?  "  Well,  the  London  Times  sent  him  word  that 
since  he  did  not  like  their  method  of  reporting,  they  would  not  re- 
port him  at  all,  and  that  his  name  should  never  again  appear  in  their 
Parliamentary  columns.  The  next  day,  when  prayers  were  ended, 
O'Connell  rose,  and  the  reporters  of  the  London  Times  rose  also  and 
folded  their  arms,  showing  their  pencils  reversed  between  the  thumb 
and  forefinger,  indicating  that  they  should  not  use  them  while  he 
was  up.  Well,  you  know,  the  gallery  of  the  House  of  Commons  is 
not  open  to  anybody,  and  a  member  can  order  it  cleared  by  simply 
noticing  their  presence  by  saying  :  "  I  observe  strangers  in  the  gal- 
lery ; "  after  which  nobody  remains  but  the  reporters.  As  these 
men  arose.  Sir  Robert  Peel  also  arose  and  said:  "One  moment,  if 
you  please.  Before  the  honorable  Member  from  Clare  begins,  will 
he  allow  me  to  point  out  to  him  that  instance  of  passive  resistance 
in  the  gallery  ?  '  Passive  resistance '  is  the  gospel  the  honorable 
member  preaches  so  often."  "Thank  you,  sir,"  said  O'Connell; 
"  thank  you,  Mr.  Speaker,  I  observe  three  strangers  in  tlie  gaUery.^^ 
Of  course,  they  had  to  leave ;  and,  of  course,  the  next  day,  the 
London  Times  did  not  have  any  Parliamentary  report  at  alL  And, 
for  the  first  time,  and  the  last,  with  the  exception  of  Bichard  Cob- 
den's  case,  the  great  "  Thunderer"  cried  for  quarter. 

A  dozen  years  later,  when  O'Connell  was  addressing  the  monster 
meetings  for  Repeal,  the  London  Times,  recognizing  his  power,  of 
course,  abused  hitn,  and*  disgraced  itself,  and  that's  saying  a  great 
deal ;  and  its  reporters,  if  recognized,  would  have  been  torn  to 
pieces.  O'Connell  was  seated  at  breakfast,  while  the  people  were 
gathering  to  one  of  these  meetings.  The  door  opened,  and  two  or 
three  reporters  of  the  London  Tim£S  entered — Mr.  Gumey,  and, 
among  others,  our  friend,  "Bull  Run  Russell,"  who  ran  away  befo^ 
the  battle  began.  ' '  Bull  Run  Russell "  advanced,  and  said  to  him  : 
"  Mr.  O'ConneU,  we  are  reporters  for  the  Londo*  Times,  and  we 
dare  not  enter  that  crowd."  "Shouldn't  think  you  would,"  sdid 
O'Connell.  "Have  you  had  breakfast,  gentleman?"  "Well,  to 
tell  the  truth,  we  did  not  dare  to  ask  for  any."  ", Shouldn't  think 
you  would,"  said  O'Connell.  They  sat  down,  and  he  shared  his 
breakfast  with  them ;  and  then  he  took  "  BuU  Run  Russell "  by  the 

Cand  brought  him  to  the  platform,  ordered  a  chair  and  table  for 
,  and  asked  the  Englishman  if  his  pencils  were  all  pointed,  and 
if  he  had  paper  enough  for  a  long  speech,  as  he  intended  to  speak 
for  four  hours.  "  Bull  Run  "  assured  him  that  he  was  all  right  on 
these  points;  and,  then,  O'Connell  advanced  to  the  front  of  the 
platform,  and  addressed  the  audience  in  Irish. 

But  it  was  not  his  wit,  ready  and  keen  as  it  was,  when  he  annihi- 
lated Disraeli  in  six  words,  by  telling  him  he  was  "  a  lineal  descend- 
ant of  the  impenitent  thief  on  ,the  crosa."     It  was  not  hia  wit. 


APPENDIX.  305 

Waldo  Emerson  says : — "  There  is  no  true  eloquence  unless  there  is 
a  man  behind  the  speech  ;  "  and  the  reason  of  O'Connell's  success 
was,  that  England  and  Ireland  both  ^ew  that  behind  the  speech 
there  was  a  man^  one  that  could  neither  be  bought,  bullied,  nor 
cheated.  J[Ttionia8  Carlyle  says: — "He  is  the  God-anointed  king 
whose" single  word  melts  a  million  of  hearts  unto  his."  That  was 
O'Connell.  Measure  him  with  othera  Take  England  in  '^9  and  '30. 
When  the  Lords  flung  out  the  Reform  BiU,  all  England  heaved  like 
a  volcano.  Lords  Melbourne  and  Bussell,  McLito^  and  Macaulay, 
all  the  Whig  chiefs  then  said  to  John  Bull, — the  law-abiding,  intel- 
ligent John  Bull : — "Don't  mob  I  Don't  mob  !  If  you  will  only 
keep  quiet,  we  will  give  you  the  Bill."  But  they  could  not  hold 
back  John  Bull.  Birmingham  was  in  the  hands  of  the  mob  for  a 
week :  the  streets  of  Bristol  ran  with  blood ;  and  John  Bull  took  the 
bit  between  his  teeth  and  flung  the  Whig  revolutionists  to  the  walL 
Take  1835,  and  the  mobs  in  this  country  against  Abolitionism,  when 
they  dragged  Garrison  through  the  streets,  gutted  the  houses  in  the 
towns  and  cities,  and  murdered  Lovejoy.  The  Whig  party  cried 
out, — the  public  Press  cried  out: — "Don't  mob!  Americana, 
don't  you  mob  I  An  anti-slavery  argument  will  float  farther  on  the 
shouts  of  the  mob  than  the  most  eloquent  lips  can  carry  it.  Now, 
don't  you  mob  I  "  They  could  not  hold  back  Protestant  Yankee- 
dom ;  and  our  great  cities  roared  with  riot.  There  stood  O'Connell, 
alone,  without  an  office ; — he  never  held  one  ; — four  millions  of 
Irishmen  behind  him,  oppressed,  poverty-stricken ;  under  them  the 
sod  soaked  with  the  blood  of  their  ancestors ;  and  over  them  that 
law  that,  as  Henry  Brougham  said,  they  couldn't  lift  a  hand  with- 
out breaking  it ;  behind  them  a  history  that  is  a  disgrace  to  Eng- 
land and  Europe  alike.  They  were  Wshmen;  their  blood  quick- 
silver ;  hating  the  law,  and  loving  a  fight : — aAd  they  never  had  an 
English  law  that  they  ought  not  to  hate.  Their  own  Bishop  of 
Kerry  said,  in  1799  :  "  Allegiance  and  protection  go  hand  in  hand. 
You  never  have  had  protection;  and  you  do  not  owe  allegiance." 
That  was  their  schooling, — that  was  their  blood.  O'Connell  said  to 
them :  "  The  man  that  commits  a  crime  gives  strength  to  the  enemy." 
And  for  thirty  years  he  waged  that  battie  between  homeless,  house- 
less, starved  Ireland,  and  the  omnipotence  of  Great  Britain,  with 
law  on  its  side :  and  no  sheriff  ever  put  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of 
one  of  his  followers. 

Now,  he  owed  this  to  the  int^rity  of  his  life.  He  never  shut  his 
eyes  on  the  wrongs  of  one  race  to  vindicate  another.  When  the 
Chartists  came,  he  gave  them  a  vote  ;  when  the  Dissenters  came, 
he  gave  them  a  vote ;  and  when  the  anti-slavery  party  came,  he 
gave  them  a  vote.  When  Kossuth  came  to  this  countxy,  he  went 
down  to  Faneuil  Hall,  and  said :  "  There  is  a  flag  without  a  stain, — 
there  is  a  people  without  a  crime."  We  said  to  him :  "  Oh,  Kos- 
suth, soi^of  the  Magyar,  come  to  break  the  chains  of  Hungary,  have 
you  no  word  to  say  in  behalf  of  four  millions  of  negroes,  bending 
under  a  bondage  twice  as  bitter  as  that  of  Hungary  ?  "  He  said  : 
"I  will  praise  anything, — I  would  forget  anybody  to  help  Hungary. " 
Well,  O'Connell  never  said  that.    When  I  was  at  Naples,  I  met  Sir 


306 


APPENDIX. 


Thomas  Buckstone,  who  hated  an  Irishman  heartaly.  When  I  went 
np  to  him,  I  said :  "  Was  O'Conuell  the  scamp  that  Harriet  Marti- 
nean  painted  him  ?  "  Taking  both  my  hands  in  his,  the  old  giant, 
looking  down  on  me,  said :  ^'  Scamp !  He  was  the  honestest  man 
th?it  ever  entered  tiie  House."  And,  then,  he  told  me  this  story. 
Said  he : — "  When  O'Connell  entered  the  House,  he  had  one  other 
vote  besides  his  own, — two  on  the  Irish  Question.  At  that  time," 
said  Buckstone,  "  the  anti-slavery  cause  was  so  poor,  that  there  was 
only  one  other  member  besides  myself  who  spoke  on  its  behalf,  and 
that  was  Dr.  Lushington.  And  we  made  an  agreement  that,  when 
Lushington  spoke,  I  should  cheer  him  ;  and  when  I  spoke,  he  should 
cheer  me.  These  wera  the  only  cheers  we  got.  At  the  moment 
when  O'Connell  entered  the  House,  there  were  twenty-seven  mem- 
bers, who  went  to  him,  whom  we  used  to  call  the  '  West  Indian 
Members,'  because  they  always  voted  for  slavery.  They  said  to 
O'Connell:  'At  last  you  are  in,  and  have  got  twovotea  Now,  if 
you  never  will  go  down  to  Freemason's  Tavern,  with  Macaulay  and 
Brougham  and  the  anti-slavery  society,  there  are  twenty-seven  votes 
for  you  on  every  Irish  question.  Should  you  do  that,  count  us  your 
enemies,'  "  Suppose  he  had  been  an  American,  he  would  have  said, 
"  That  is  a  big  thing.  I  gn^ess  I  will  let  the  Negro  slide."  But, 
Buckstone  continued :  "  O'Connell  said  to  them  :  '  Gentlemen,  God 
knows  that  I  am  here  in  the  cause  of  the  saddest  people  that  the 
sun  sees ;  but  may  my  right  hand  forget  its  cunning,  and  my  tongue 
cleave  to  the  roof  of  m^  mouth,  when,  to  help  Ireland — even  Ire- 
land— I  forget  the  Negfro  for  one  single  hour.'  And  from  that  mo- 
ment of  '38,"  said  Buckstone,  *'  Lushington  and  I  never  went  into 
the  lobby  that  O'Connell  did  not  join  us."  Some  ten  years  later,  he 
went  into  Conciliation  Hall ;  and  there  lay  on  the  de^  a  thousand 
pound  draft,  stated  tib  be  from  the  slaveholders  of  New  Orleans,  for 
the  Repeal  cause.  He  took  it  up  and  marched  up  to  the  front  of 
the  platform.  Said  he  :  "  Gentlemen,  I  hold  in  my  hand  a  thou- 
sand pounds  from  the  slaveholders  of  New  Orleans,  to  help  Bepeal. 
It  is  the  impaid  wages  of  the  negro.  Mr.  Treasurer,  I  suppose  the 
treasury  is  empty?"  A  nod  assured  him  that  it  was.  Said  he: 
"  Ireland  is  very  poof  ;  but,  thank  God,  Ireland  is  not  poor  enough 
to  take  the  unpaid  wages  of  anybody.     Send  it  back." 

About  that  time,  a  Boston  man,  carrying  letters  of  introduction  to 
him,  went  up  to  his  house  in  Merrion-square.  O'Connell  came  down 
to  the  door,  and  stretched  out  both  his  hands,  and  took  those  of  his 
guest,  as  was  his  custom,  and  drew  him  into  the  library,  saying :  "  I 
am  glad  to  see  you, — glad  to  see  anybody  from  Massachusetts, — a 
free  State,  God  bless  her."  "  Oh,  ho  !  "  said  the  Boston  man, — "  it 
is  slavery  you  allude  to,  Mr.  O'ConnelL  Allow  me  to  say  a  few  words 
in  favor  of  that  iastitution.7^  "  Say  anything,"  said  O'Connell. 
*'Free  speech,  here,  at  least.  I  But,  before  you  prove  to  me  the  right 
of  one  man  to  own  his  brother^Snll  you  allow  me  to  step  out^de  and 
lock  up  my  spoons  ?  "  ' 

That  was  the  man.  The  ocean  of  his  philanthropy  knew  no 
shore.  He  was  an  Irishman,  despised ;  he  was  a  Catholic,  hated ;  he 
was  a  man  of  wo^rds  and  notlung  else,    On  wo^  alonQ  he  mardied 


APPENDIX.  307 

from  the  hated  sod  of  Ireland ;  and,  when  I  saw  him  in  London,  he 
held  the  balance  of  power,  with  sixty-nine  votes  in  his  right  hand, 
both  parties  tendering  him  their  support.  The  Whigs  said — "  Wonld 
you  like  to  be  Lord  Chancellor  of  Lreland  ? — Take  it.  Would  you 
like  to  have  us  repeal  the  last  vestige  of  the  Irish  code,  and  make 
you  Lord  Chancellor  of  England  ? — Take  that ;  only  save  the  Whig 
party. "  And  I  left  him  thus — this  hated  Irishman — this  despised 
Catholic — this  agitator — tiiis  maA  of  words,  standing  with  the  Whig 
party  in  one  hand,  and  the  Tories  in  the  other ;  and  he  was  deciding 
to  which  he  would  give  the  government  of  the  realm. 

Now,  one  word  on  Mr.  Proude,  and  I  have  finished.  He  forgot 
the  frame  of  his  picture.  You  have  heard  of  Poland,  the  chivalrous 
nation,  the  nation  of  nobles,  in  whose  veins  flowed  the  blue  blood 
that  astonished  Europe  by  its  heroism.  Well,  a  hundred  years  ago, 
Austria  and  Prussia  defeated  all  its  efforts,  and  crushed  it  out  of 
sight.  Poland  rebelled,  and  rebelled,  and  rebisUed ;  she  was  crushed 
every  time.  Her  languid  is  a  forgotten  tradition.  Her  laws  are  a 
felony  to  cite.  Her  nobles  are  wanderers  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
If  you  look  on  the  map,  there  is  no  Poland.  A  hundred  years  have 
done  it.  Yet  where  are  the  lips  that  would  not  be  blistered  if  they 
dared  to  say  a  word  against  Poland  ?  When  America  ^i^ited  to 
know  how  to  fight,  they  sent  us  Eosciusco,  the  Pole.  ^]2hen  the 
bard,  the  orator,  want  the  finest  illustration  of  bravery  or  patriot- 
ism, they  point  to  Poland.  No  man  ever  doubted  the  capacitiy  of 
Poland.  But  a  hundred  years  have  annihilated  her.  There  was  Ire- 
land,  half  as  large,  half  as  populous,  isolated  from  the  Continent  by 
the  ocean,  tied  to  England,  separated  from  Europe.  For  seven  hnn- 
dred  years  the  omnipotent  Anglo-Saxon  race  hios  striven  to  grind 
the  Irish  race  to  powder.  After  seven  hundred  years,  an  English- 
man comes  here  to  teach  us  that  that  race  has  neither  bravery  nor 
courage  I  But,  yet,  after  those  seven  hundred  years,  Ireland 
still  stands,  with  the  National  flag  in  one  hand  and  the  Crucifix  of 
Catholicity  in  the  other. 


\ 


THE    TREATY   OF   LIMERICK 

ThSs  "  Treaty  of  Limerick," — ^the  violation  of  which  has,  in  the 
opinion  of  impartial  historians,  during  the  past  two  centuries,  been 
the  shame  of  England  and  the  root  of  the  legitimate  grievances  of 
the  Irish  nation,  is  often  aUuded  to  by  modem  writjers  and  speakers ; 
yet  it  is  safe  to  say  that  not  one  in  fifty  of  those  who  hear  or  speak 
of  the  "Violated  Treaty"  are  conversant  with  its  real  terms  and 
provisiona    It  will  not,  therefore,  be  out  of  place  to  give  it  insertion 
in  this  volume,  in  which  reference  has  been  made  to  the  events 
which  led  to  it,  and  the  effects  which  followed  its  abrogation.     It  is 
reprinted  in  full,  for  two  reasons.    First,  because  a  document,  which 
in  itself  constitutes  one  of  the  moot-points  of  history,  on  which  po- 
litical discussions  are  based,  should  be  taken  in  full  in  every  estimate 
of  its  worth  as  evidence.    And  secondly,  the  very  minuteness  of  de- 
tail displayed  in  the  terms  of  this  Treaty,  and  the  particularity  with 
which  every  incident  to  which  the  political  complexion  of  the  times, 
or  the  chances  of  military  necessity  might  g^ve  rise,  is  provided  for 
(even  to  the  specifying  of  individual  cases),  prove  that  this  was  not 
a  mere  agreement  of  amnesty  between  a  party  of  conquered  rebels 
and  the  government  against  which  they  had  revolted,  but  a  solemn 
compact  between  two  acknowledged  powers,  each  having  the  ability 
to  enforce  its  own  rights  in  the  transaction,  and  each  yielding  some- 
thing of  those  rights  as  an  equivalent  for  the  execution  and  loyal 
fulfillment  of  the  treaty  stipulations  to  which  the  good  faith  of 
both  had  been  pledged.     On  the  part  of  the  Irish  afmy  and  nation, 
the  terms  of  that  treaty  were  carried  out  hpnorably  and  without  de- 
lay or  hesitancy.     On  the  part  of  England,  history  records  the  dam- 
ning fact, — so  indecent  was  the  haste  with  which  her  agents  and 
representsttives  trampled  on  their  plighted  word, — that,  before  the 
signature  of  the  English  sovereign  could  be  attached  to  the  treaty, 
in  approval  of  the  act  of  the  Royal  Commissioners,  its  essential  pro- 
visions had  already  been  violated  ;  and  ere  long  it  was  shamelessly 
thrust  aside  as  a  mere  pretence  which  had  served  the  purpose  of 
its  fabricators  when  it  induced   a  brave  and  disciplined  army  to 


APPENDIX,  309 

withdraw  from  their  cotmtry  the  arms  which  might  have  saccess- 
fully  defended  her  liberty. 

The  following  is  the  full  text  of  the  Treaty  of  Limerick : — 

*'  ABTICLES   AGREED    UPON*  THE    THIRD    DAY  OP    OCTOBER,  ONE 
THOUSAND  BIX  HUNDRED  AND  NINETY-ONE, 

*'  Between  the  Bight  Honorable  Sir  Charles  Porter  Knight,  and 
Thomas  Goningsby,  Esq. ,  Lords-Justices  of  Lreland ;  and  his  Ex- 
cellency the  Baron  de  Ginkle,  Lieutenant-general,  and  Comman- 
der-in-chief of  the  English  army ;  on  the  one  part, 

* '  And  the  Right  Honorable  Patrick  (Sarsfield)  Earl  of  Lncan ;  Piercy, 
Viscount  Galmoy ;  Colonel  Nicholas  Parcel,  Colonel  Nicholas  Cu- 
sack,  Sir  Toby  Butler,  Colonel  Garret  Dillon,  and  Colonel  John 
Brown  ;  on  the  other  part : 

*'  Li  the  behalf  of  the  Lish  inhabitants  in  the  city  and  county  of 
Limericb-,  the  counties  of  Clare,  Kerry,  Cork,  SUgo,  and  Mayo. 

*'  In  consideration  of  the  surrender  of  the  city  of  Limerick,  and  other 
agreements  made  between  the  said  Lieutenant-Genei^  Ginkle, 
the  Governor  of  the  city  of  Limerick,  and  the  Generals  of  the 
Irish  army,  bearing  date  with  these  presents,  for  the  surrender  of 
the  said  city,  and  submission  of  the  said  army :  it  is  agreed,  That, 

"  I.  The  Roman  Catholics  of  this  kingdom  shall  enjoy  such  privi- 
leges in  the  exercise  of  their  religion,  as  are  consistent  with  the 
laws  of  Ireland ;  or  as  they  did  enjoy  in  the  reign  of  King  Charles 
the  Second  :  and  their  Majesties,  as  soon  as  their  affairs  will  permit 
them  to  summon  a  Parliament  in  this  kingdom,  will  endeavor  to 
procure  the  said  Roman  Catholics  such  furtdier  security  in  that  par- 
ticular, as  may  preserve  them  from  any  disturbance  upon  the  account 
of  their  said  religion. 

"II.  All  the  inhabitants  or  residents  of  Limerick,  or  any  other 
garrison  now  in  the  possession  of  the  Irish,  and  all  officers  and 
soldiers,  now  in  arms,  under  any  commission  of  King  J^mes,  or  those 
authorized  by  him  to  grant  the  same  in  the  several  counties  of  Lim- 
erick, Clare,  Kerry,  Cork,  and  Mayo,  or  any  of  them ;  and  all  the 
commissioned  officers  in  their  Majesties'  quarters  that  belong  to  the 
Irish  regiments  now  in  being,  that  are  treated  with  and  who  are  not 
prisoners  of  war,  or  have  taken  protection,  and  who  shall  return  and 
submit  to  their  Majesties'  obedience ;  and  their  and  every  of  their 
heirs,  shall  hold,  possess,  and  enjoy,  all  and  every  their  estates  of 
freehold  and  inheritance ;  and  all  the  rights,  titles  and  interests, 
privileges  and  immunities,  which  they,  and€very  or  any  of  them  held, 
enjoyed,  or  were  rightly  and  lawfully  entitled  to  in  the  reign  of  King 
Charles  11. ,  or  at  any  time  since,  by  the  laws  and  statutes  that  were 
in  force  in  the  said  reign  of  King  Charles  U. ;  and  shall  be  put  in 
possession,  by  order  of  the  government,  of  such  of  them  as  are  in 
the  King's  hands,  or  the  hands  of  his  tenants,  without  being  put  to 
any  suit  or  trouble  therein ;  and  all  such  estates  shall  be  froed  and 
discharged  from  all  arrears  of  crown-rents,  quit-rents,  and  other  pub- 


310  APPBJmiX. 

lio  diorges,  inonrred  and  beooioe  di^  Educe  Mi<^xaelnias,  1688^  to  the 
day  of  the  date  hereof  :  and  all  persons  comprehended  in  tiiis  arti- 
cle shall  have,  hold,  and  enjoy  all  their  goods  and  chattels,  real  and 
personal,  to  them,  or  any  of  them  belonging,  and  remaining  either 
in  their  own  hands,  or  the  hands  of  any  persons  whatsoever,  in  trust 
for,  or  for  the  use  of  them,  or  any  of  them :  and  all^  apd  eve^  the 
said  persons,  of  what  profession,  trade,  or  calling  soever  they  be, 
shall  and  may  use,  exercise,  and  practise  their  several  and  respective 
professions,  trades,  and  callings,  as  freely  as  they  did  use,  exercise, 
and  enjoy  the  same  in  the  reign  of  King  Charles  II.,  provided  that 
nothing  in  this  article  contained  be  construed  to  extend  to,  or  restore 
any  forfeiting  persons  now  out  of  the  kingdom,  except  what  are 
hereafter  comprised  :  provided  also,  that  no  person  whatsoever  shall 
have  or  enjoy  the  benefit  of  this  article,  that  shall  neglect  or  refuse 
to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  made  by  Act  of  Parliament  in  Eng- 
land, in  the  first  year  of  the  reign  of  their  present  Majesties,  when 
thereunto  required. 

* '  IIL  All  merchants,  or  reputed  merchants  of  the  city  of  Limerick, 
or  of  any  other  garrison  now  possessed  by  the  Irish,  or  of  any  town 
or  place  in  the  counties  of  Glare  or  Kerry,  who  are  absent  beyond 
the  seas,  that  have  not  borne  arms>  since  their  Majesties^  declaration 
in  February,  1688,  shall  have  the  benefit  of  the  second  article,  in 
the  same  manner  as  if  they  were  present ;  provided  such  merchants, 
and  reputed  merchants,  do  repair  into  this  kingdom  within  the  space 
of  eight  months  from  the  date  hereof. 

"IV.  The  following  officers,  viz..  Colonel  Simon  Lutterel,  Cap- 
tain Rowland  White,  Maurice  Eustace  of  Yermanstown,  Chievers  of 
Maystown,  commonly  called  Mount-Leinster,  now  belonging  to  the 
regiments  in  the  aforesaid  garrisons  and  quarters  of  the  Irish  army, 
who  were  beyond  the  seas,  and  sent  thither  upon  affairs  of  their  re- 
spective regiments,  or  the  army  in  general,  shall  have  the  benefit 
and  advantage  of  the  second  article,  provided  they  return  hither 
within  the  space  of  eight  months  from  the  date  of  these  presents, 
and  submit  to  their  Majesties*  government,  and  take  the  above-men- 
tioned oath. 

"V.  That  all  and  singular  the  said  i)erRons  comprised  in  the 
second  and  third  articles,  shall  have  a  general  pardon  of  all  attain- 
ders, outlawries,  treasons,  misprisions  of  treason,  premunires,  felo- 
nies, trespasses,  and  other  crimes  and  misdemeanors  whatsoever,  by 
them,  6x  any  of  them,  committed  since  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of 
King  James  II. ;  and  if  any  of  them  are  attainted  by  Parliament,  the 
Lordsrjustices  and  Genersd  will  use  their  best  endeavors  to  get  the 
same  repealed  by  Parliament,  and  the  outlawries  to  be  reversed  gra- 
tis, all  but  writing-clerks'  fees. 

"  VI.  And  whereas  these  present  wars  have  drawn  on  great  vio- 
lences on  both  parts ;  and  that  if  leave  were  gfiven  to  the  bringiiq^ 
all  sorts  of  private  actions,  the  animosities  woiUd  probably  continue, 
that  have  been  too  long  on  foot,  and  the  public  disturbances  last: 
for  the  quieting  and  settling  therefore  of  this  kingdom,  and  avoiding 
those  inconvenieoces  which  would  be  the  necessaiy  consequence  of  th^ 
ocmtcac7)  no  pecciQa  o?  persons  wha^oever,  cootpi^UtBd  in  t^  f oregCK 


APPENDIi;,  311 

isg  articles,  shall  be  sued,  molested,  or  impleaded  at  the  suit  of  anj 
pcudy  or  parties  whataoever,  for  any  trei^>a68es  by  them  committed,  or 
for  aay  arms,  horses,  money,  goods,  chattels,  merchandises,  or  pro- 
visions whatsoever,  by  them  seized  or  taken  during  the  time  of  the 
war.  And  no  person  or  persons  whatsoever,  in  the  second  or  third 
articles  comprised,  shall  be  sued,  impleaded,  or  made  accounta- 
ble for  the  rents  or  mesne  rates  of  any  lands,  tenements,  or  houses, 
by  him  or  them  received,  or  enjoyed  in  this  kingdom,  since  the  be- 
ginning  of  the  present  war,  to  the  d£^.of  the  date  hereof,  nor  for 
any  waste  or  trespass  by  him  or  them  committed  in  any  such  lands, 
tenements,  or  houses :  and  it  is  also  agreed,  that  this  article  shall 
be  mutual  and  reciprocal  on  both  sides. 

"  VII.  Every  nobleman  and  gentleman  comprised  in  the  said  sec- 
ond and  third  articles,  shall  have  liberty  to  ride  with  a  sword,  and 
case  of  pistols,  if  they  think  ht ;  and  keep  a  gun  in  their  houses,  for 
the  defence  or  the  same,  or  for  fowling. 

"  VIII.  The  inhabitants  and  residents  in  the  city  of  Limerick,  and 
other  garrisons,  shall  be  permitted  to  remove  their  g^oods,  chattels, 
and  provisions  out  of  the  same,  without  b^ng  viewed  and  searched, 
or  paying  any  manner  of  duties,  and  shall  not  be  compelled  to  leave 
the  houses  or  lodgings  they  now  have,  for  the  space  of  six  weeks 
next,  ensuing  the  date  hereof. 

'^  IX  The  oath  to  be  administered  to  such  Roman  Catholics  a^ 
submit  to  their  Majesties*  government,  shall  be  the  oath  abovesaid, 
and  no  other. 

'*  X.  No  person  or  persons  who  shall  at  any  time  hereafter  break 
these  articles,  or  any  of  them,  shall  thereby  make,  or  cause  any 
other  person  or  persons  to  forfeit  or  lose  the  benefit  of  the  same. 

"  XI.  The  Lords-justices  and  General  do  promise  to  use  their  ut- 
most endeavors,  that  aU  the  persons  comprehended  in  the  above-men- 
tioned articles,  shall  be  protected  and  defended  from  all  arrests  and 
executions  for  debt  or  danmge  for  the  space  of  eight  months  next 
ensuing  the  date  hereof. 

'^  XIL  Lastly,  the  Lords- justices  and  General  do  undertake,  that 
their  Majesties  will  ratify  these  articles  within  the  space  of  eight 
months,  or  sooner,  and  use  their  utmost  endeavors  that  the  same 
shall  be  ratified  and  confirmed  in  Parliament. 

''XIII.  And  whereas  Colonel  John  Brown  stood  indebted  to  sev- 
eral Protestants,  by  judgments  of  record,  which,  appearing  to  the 
late  government,  tiie  Lord  Tyrconnel  and  Lord  Lucan,  took  away 
the  effects  the  said  John  Brown  had  to  answer  the  said  debts, 
and  promised  to  clear  the  said  John  Brown  of  the  said  debts;  which 
effects  were  taken  for  the  public  use  of  the  Irish  and  their  army, 
for  freeing  the  said  Lord  Lucan  of  his  said  engiigement,  passed  on 
their  public  account  for  payment  of  the  said  Protestants,  and  for 
preventing  the'  ruin  of  the  said  John  Brown,  and  for  satisfaction  of 
his  creditors,  at  the  instance  of  the  Lord  Lucan,  and  the  rest  of  the 
persons  aforesaid — it  is  agreed,  that  the  said  Lords-justices,  and  the 
said  Baron  de  Ginkle,  shall  intercede  with  the  King  and  Parliament, 
to  have  the  estates  secured  to  l^pnu^i  Catholics,  Zj  actides  audjQa- 
pitolation  in  thi§  kpi^^m,  chfi^il^.  wi^  and  c^qaaUy-lialj^A  to  tl^. 


312  APPENDIX. 

payment  of  so  Ihuch  of  the  same  debts  as  the  said  Lord  Lucan,  upon 
stating  accounts  with  the  said  John  Brown,  shall  certify  under  his 
hand,  that  the  effects  taken  from  the  said  Brown  amount  unto; 
which  account  is  to  be  stated,  and  thebalance  certified  by  the  said 
Lord  Lucan  in  one-and-twenty  days  after  the  date  hereof. 

'^  For  the  true  performance  hereof,  we  have  hereunto  set  our 
hands. 

"  Char.  Porter,  Tho.  Coningsby, 

"Bar.  De  Ginkle. 
"  Present— 

"  SCRAYENMORE,   H.  MACCAY,   T.    TAT.MASH. 


THE  ROYAL   CONEIRMATION  OF  THE  TREATY. 

"  And,  whereas,  the  said  city  of  Limerick  hath  been  since,  in 
pursuance  of  the  said  articles,  surrendered  unto  us.  Now  know  ye, 
that  we,  having  considered  of  the  said  articles,  are  graciously  pleased 
hereby  to  declare,  that  we  do,  for  us,  our  heirs,  and  successors,  as 
far  as  in  us  lies,  ratify  and  confirm  the  same,  and  every  clause, 
matter,  and  thing  therein  contained.  And  as  to  such  parts  thereof 
for  which  an  act  of  Parliament  shall  be  found  to  be  necessary,  we 
shall  recommend  the  same  to  be  made  good  by  Parliament,  and 
shall  give  our  royal  assent  to  any  bill  or  bills  that  shall  be  passed  by 
our  two  houses  of  Parliament  to  that  purpose.  And  whereas  it 
appears  unto  us,  that  it  was  agreed  between  the  parties  to  the 
said  articles,  that  after  the  words  Limerick,  Clare,  Kerry,  Cork, 
Mayo,  or  any  of  them,  in  the  second  of  the  said  articles,  the  words 
following,  viz. ,  '  And  aU  such  as  are  under  their  protection  in  the 
said  counties,'  should  be  inserted,  and  be  part  of  the  said  articles. 
Which  words  having  been  casually  omitted  by  the  writer,  .the  omis- 
sion was  not  discovered  till  after  the  said  articles  were  signed,  but 
was  taken  notice  of  before  the  second  town  was  surrendered ;  and 
iiiat  our  said  Justices  and  General,  or  one  of  them,  did  promise 
that  the  said  clause  shotdd  be  made  good,  it  being  within  the  in- 
tention of  the  capitulation,  and  inserted  in  the  foul  draught  thereof ; 
our  further  will  and  pleasure  is,  and  we  do  hereby  ratify  and  confirm 
the  said  omitted  words,  viz. ,  '  And  all  such  as  are  under  their  protec- 
tion in  the  said  counties,'  hereby  for  us,  our  heirs  and  successors, 
ordaining  and  declaring,  that  all  and  every  person  and  persons 
therein  concerned,  shall  and  may  have,  receive  and  enjoy  the  benefit 
thereof,  in  such  and  the  same  manner  as  if  the  said  words  had  been 
inserted  in  their  proper  place  in  the  said  second  article ;  any  omis- 
sion, defect,  or  mistake  in  the  said  second  article,  in  any  wise  not- 
withstanding. Provided  always,  and  our  will  and  pleasure  is,  that 
these  our  letters  patent  shall  be  enrolled  in  our  Court  of  Chancery 
in  our  said  Kingdom  of  Lreland,  within  the  space  of  one  year  next 
ensuing.  Li  witness,  &c.,  witness  ourself  at  Westminster,  the 
twenty-fourth  day  of  February,  anno  r^ni  regis  &  reginse  Gulielmi 
&  MarisB  quarto,  per  breve  de  private  (E^illo.  Nos  autem  tenorem 
premissor,   predict.      Ad  requisitionem  attomat.   general    domini 


APPENDIX.  313 

• 

regis  &  dominsB  reginsB  pro  regno  Hibemise.  Dnximtis  exemplifi- 
cand.  per  presentee.  In  cujns  rei  testimoniuni  has  literas  nostra? 
fieri  fecimos  patentee.  Testibus  nobis  ipsis  apad  Westmon.  quinto 
die  Aprilis  annoq.  regni  eorom  quarto. 

"  Bbidges. 
*'  Ezamxoat.  per  nos. 

*'  S.  Eece,  )  In  Cancel. 

"  Lacon  Wm.  Childb.  J  Magistros." 


**  MiLiTAKY  Articles  agreed  upon  between  the  Baron  de  Ginkle, 
Lieutenant-general  and  Gonunander-in-chief  of  the  English 
army,  on  the  one  side, 

"  And  the  Lieutenant-generals  D'Usson  and  De  Tesse,  Command- 
ers in-chief  of  the  Irish  army,  on  the  other ;  and  the  General 
officers  hereunto  subscribing. 

"  I.  That  all  i)ersons  without  any  exceptions,  of  what  quality  or 
condition  soever,  that  are  willing  to  leave  the  kingdom  of  Ireland, 
shall  have  free  liberty  to  go  to  any  country  beyond  the  seas  (Eng- 
land and  Scotland  excepted)  where  they  think  fit,  with  their  fami- 
lies, household-stuff,  plate,  and  jewels. 

*'  II.  That  all  general  officers,  colonels,  and  generally  all  other 
officers  of  horse,  dragoons,  and  foot-guards,  troopers,  dragooners, 
soldiers  of  all  kinds,  that  are  in  any  garrison,  place,  or  x>ost  now 
in  the  hands  of  the  Irish,  or  encamped  in  the  counties  of  Cork, 
Clare,  and  Kerry,  as  also  those  called  Rapparees,  or  volunteers, 
that  are  willing  to  go  beyond  seas  as  aforesaid,  shall  have  free  leave 
to  embark  themselves  wherever  the  ships  are  that  are  appointed  to 
transport  them,  and  to  come  in  whole  bodies  as  they  are  now  com- 
posed, or  ^1  parties,  companies,  or  otherwise,  without  having  any 
impediment,  directly  or  mdirectly. 

"III.  That  all  persons  above-mentioned,  that  are  willing  to  leave 
Ireland  and  go  into  France,  shall  have  leave  to  declare  it  at  the 
times  and  places  hereafter  mentioned,  viz. :  the  troops  in  Limerick, 
on  Tuesday  next  in  Limerick ;  the  horse  at  their  camp  on  Wed- 
nesday ;  and  the  other  forces  that  are  dispersed  in  the  counties  of 
Clare,  Kerry,  and  Cork,  on  the  8th  instant,  and  on  none  other,  be- 
fore Monsieur  Tameron,  the  French  Intendant,  and  Colonel  Withers  ; 
and  after  such  declaration  is  made,  the  troops  that  will  go  into 
France  must  remain  under  the  command  and  discipline  of  their 
officers  that  are  to  conduct  them  thither ;  and  deserters  of  each  side 
shall  be  given  up,  and  punished  accordingly. 

"IV.  That  all  English  and  Scotch  officers  that  serve  now  in 
Ireland,  shall  be  included  in  this  capitulation,  as  well  for  the 
security  of  their  estates  and  goods  in  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland 
(if  they  are  willing  to  remain  here),  as  for  passing  freely  into  France, 
or  any  other  country  to  serve. 

*'  V.  That  all  the  General  French  officers,  the  Intendant,  the 
Engineers,  the  Commissaries-at-war,  and  of  the  artillery,  the  Treas* 
urer,  and  other  French  officers,  strangers,  and  all  others  whatsoever, 


314 


APPENDIX. 


that  are  in  Sligo,  Ross,  Clare,  or  in  the  army,  or  that  do  trade  or 
commerce,  or  are  otherwise  employed  in  any  kind  of  station  or  con- 
dition, shall  have  free  leave  to  pass  into  France,  or  any  other  cotin- 
try,  and  shall  have  leave  to  ship  themselves,  with  all  their  horses, 
equipage,  plate,  papers,  and  all  their  effects  whatever;  and  that 
General  Ginkle  will  order  passports  for  them,  convoys,  and  carri- 
ages by  land  and  water,  to  carry  them  safe  from  Limerick  to  the 
ships  where  they  shall  be  embarked,  without  paying  anything  for 
the  said  carriages,  or  to  those  that  are  employed  therein,  with  their 
horses,  cars,  boats,  and  shallops. 

"  VL  That  if  any  of  the  aforesaid  equipages,  merchandise,  horses, 
money,  plate,  or  other  movables,  or  household-stuff  belonging  to  the 
said  Irish  troops,  or  to  the  French  officers,  or  other  particular  persons 
whatsoever,  be  robbed,  destroyed,  or  taken  away  by  the  troops  of 
the  said  General,  the  said  General  will  order  it  to  be  restored,  or 
payment  to  be  made  according  to  the  value  that  is  given  in  upon 
oath  by  the  persons  so  robbed  or  plundered ;  and  the  said  Irish  troops 
to  be  transported,  as  aforesaid,  and  all  other  persons  belonging  to 
them,  are  to  observe  good  order  in  their  march  and  quarters,  and 
shall  restore  whatever  they  shall  take  from  the  country,  or  make 
restitution  for  the  same. 

"VII.  That  to  facilitate  the  transporting  the  said  troops,  the 
General  will  furnish  fifty  ships,  each  ship's  burden  two  hundred 
tons;  for  which  the  persons  to  be  transported  shall  not  be  obUged 
to  pay ;  and  twenty  more,  if  there  shall  be  occasion,  without  their 
paying  for  them ;  and  if  any  of  the  said  ships  shall  be  of  lesser 
burden,  he  will  furnish  more  in  number  to  countervail;  and  also 
give  two  men-of-war  to  embark  the  principal  officers,  and  serve  for 
a  convoy  to  the  vessels  of  burden, 

"  VIII.  That  a  Commissary  shall  be  immediately  sent  to  Cork  to 
visit  the  transport  ships,  and  ascertain  what  condition  they  are  in 
for  sailing ;  and  that  as  soon  as  they  are  ready,  the  troops  to  be 
transported  shall  march  with  all  conveni«it  speed,  the  nearest  way 
in  order  to  embark  there ;  and  if  there  shall  be  any  more  men  to  be 
tran8X)orted  than  can  be  carried  off  in  the  said  fifty  ships,  the  rest 
shall  quit  the  English  town  of  Limerick,  and  march  to  such 
quarters  as  shall  be  appointed  for  them,  convenient  for  their  trans- 
portation ;  where  they  shall  remain  till  the  other  twenty  ships  be 
ready,  which  are  to  be  in  &  month ;  and  may  embark  on  any  French 
ship  that  may  come  in  the  meantime. 

"IX.  That  the  said  ships  shall  be  furnished  with  forage  for 
horse,  and  all  necessary  provisions  to  subsist  the  officers,  troops, 
dragoons,  and  soldiers,  and  all  other  persons  that  are  shipped  to  be 
transported  into  France  ;  which  provisions  shall  be  paid  for,  as  soon 
as  all  are  disembarked  at  Brest  or  Nantes,  upon  the  coast  of  Brittany, 
or  any  other  port  of  France  they  can  make. 

"X.  And  to  secure  the  return  of  the  said  ships  (the  danger  of 
the  seas  excepted),  and  payment  for  the  said  provisions,  sufficient 
hostages  shall  be  given. 

"  XI.  That  the  garrisons  of  Clare-c^tle,  Ross,  and  all  other  foot 
that  are  in  garrisons  in  the  counties  of  Clare,  Cork,  and  Kerry,  shall 


APPENDIX,  315 

have  the  adrantage  of  this  present  capitulation :  and  sach  part  of 
those  garrisons  as  design  to  go  beyond  seas,  shall  march  out  with 
their  arms,  baggage,  drums  beating,  ball  in  mouth,  match  lighted  at 
both  ends,  and  colors  flying,  with  all  the  provisions,  and  half  the 
ammunition  that  is  in  the  said  garrisons,  and  join  the  horse  that 
march  to  be  transported ;  or  if  then  there  is  not  shipping  enough  for 
the  body  of  foot  that  is  to  be  next  transported  after  the  horse. 
General  Ginkle  will  order  that  they  be  furnished  with  carriages  for 
that  purpose,  and  what  provisions  they  shall  want  in  their  march, 
they  paying  for  the  said  provisions,  or  else  that  they  may  take  it  out 
of  their  own  magazines. 

"XIL  That  all  the  troops  of  horse  and  dragoons  that  are  in  the 
counties  of  Cork,  Kerry,  and  Clare,  shall  also  have  the  benefit  of 
this  capitulation;  and  that  such  as  will  pass  into  France,  shall 
have  quarters  given  them  in  the  counties  of  Clare  and  Kerry,  apart 
from  the  troops  that  are  commanded  by  General  Ginkle,  until  tiiey 
can  be  shipped ;  and  within  their  quarters  they  shall  pay  for  every- 
thing, except  forage  and  pasture  for  their  horses,  which  shall  be  fur- 
nished gratis. 

' '  XIII.  Those  of  the  garrison  of  Sligo  that  are  joined  to  the  Irish 
army,  shall  have  the  benefit  of  this  capitulation ;  and  orders  shall 
be  sent  to  them  that  are  to  convey  them  up,  to  bring  them  hither  to 
Limerick  the  shortest  way. 

"XIV.  The  Irish  may  have  liberty  to  transport  nine  hundred 
horse,  including  horses  for  the  of&cers,  which  shall  be  transported 
gratis ;  and  as  for  the  troopers  that  stay  behind,  they  shall  dispose 
of  themselves  as  they  shall  think  fit,  giving  up  their  horses  and  anus 
to  such  persons  as  the  General  shall  appoint. 

"  XV.  It  shaU.  be  i)ermitted  to  those  that  are  appointed  to  take 
care  for  the  subsistence  of  the  horse  that  are  willing  to  go  into 
France,  to  buy  hay  and  com  at  the  King's  rates  wherever  they  can 
find  it,  in  the  quarters  that  are  assigned  for  them,  without  any  let 
or  molestation,  and  to  carry  all  necessary  provisions  out  of  the  city 
of  Limerick ;  and  for  this  purpose,  the  General  will  furnish  con- 
venient carriages  for  them  to  the  places,  where  they  shall  be  em- 
barked. 

"XVL  It  shall  be  lawful  to  make  use  of  the  hay  preserved  in 
the  stores  of  the  cotmty  of  Kerry,  for  the  horses  that  shall  be  em- 
barked ;  and  if  there  be  not  enough,  it  shall  be  lawful  to  buy  hay 
and  oats  wherever  it  shall  be  found,  at  the  King's  rates. 

"  XVII.  That  all  prisoners  of  war,  that  were  in  Ireland  the  28th 
of  September,  shall  be  set  at  liberty  on  both  sides ;  and  the  Greheral 
promises  to  use  his  endeavors  that  those  that  are  in  England  and 
Flanders  shall  be  set  at  liberty  also. 

"XVIII.  The  General  will  cause  provisions  and  medicines  to  be 
furnished  to  the  sick  and  wounded  ofl&cers,  troopers,  dragoons,  and 
boldicrs  of  the  Irish  army  that  cannot  pass  into  France  at  the  first 
embarkment ;  and  after  tiiey  are  cured,  wiU  order  them  ships  to  pass 
into  France,  if  they  are  willing  to  go. 

"  XIX.  That  at  the  signing  hereof,  the  General  will  send  a  ship 
expveas  to  France ;  and  tiiat  besides,  he  will  furnish  two  small  ships 


316  APPEJTDIX, 

of  those  that  are  now  in  the  river  of  Limerick,  to  transport  two 
persons  into  France  that  are  to  be  sent  to  give  notice  of  this  treaty ; 
and  that  the  commanders  of  the  said  ships  shall  have  orders  to  put 
ashore  at  the  next  port  of  France  where  they  shall  make. 

"XX.  That  all  those  of  the  said  troops,  officers,  and  others,  of 
what  character  soever,  that  would  pass  into  France,  shall  not  be 
stopped  upon  the  account  of  debt,  or  any  other  pretext. 

"  XXI.  If  after  signing  this  present  treaty,  and  before  the  arrival 
of  the  fleet,  a  French  packet-boat,  or  other  transport- ship,  shall 
arrive  from  France  in  any  other  part  of  Ireland,  the  General  will 
order  a  passport,  not  only  for  such  as  must  go  on  board  the  said 
ships,  but  to  the  ships  to  come  to  the  nearest  port  to  the  place 
where  the  troops  to  be  transported  shall  be  quartered. 

' '  XXII.  That  aft€r  the  arrival  of  the  said  fleet,  there  shall  be 
free  communication  and  passage  between  it  and  the  quarters  of  the 
abovesaid  troops ;  and  especially  for  all  those  that  have  passes 
from  the  chief  commanders  of  the  said  fleet,  or  from  Monsieur  Tam- 
eron,  the  Intendant. 

"XXIII.  In  consideration  of  the  present  capitulation,  the  two 
towns  of  Limerick  shall  be  delivered  and  put  into  the  hands  of  the 
General,  or  any  other  person  he  shall  appoint,  at  the  time  and  days 
hereafter  specified,  viz.  :  the  Irish-town,  except  the  magazines  and 
hospital,  on  the  day  of  the  signing  of  these  present  articles ;  and  as 
for  the  English- town,  it  shall  remain,  together  with  The  Island,  and 
the  free  passage  of  Thuomond-bridge,  in  the  hands  of  those  of  the 
Irish  army  that  are  now  in  the  garrison,  or  that  shall  hereafter 
come  from  the  counties  of  Cork,  Clare,  Kerry,  Sligo,  and  other  places 
above  mentioned,  until  there  shall  be  convenience  found  for  their 
transportation. 

"  XXIV.  And  to  prevent  all  disorders  that  may  happen  between 
th6  garrison  that  the  General  shall  place  in  the  Irish-town,  which 
shall  be  delivered  to  him,  and  the  Irish  troops  that  shall  remain 
in  the  English-town  and  The  Island  (which  they  may  do  until  the 
troops  to  be  embarked  on  the  first  fifty  ships  shall  be  gone  for 
France,  and  no  longer),  they  shall  entrench  themselves  on  both 
sides,  to  hinder  the  communication  of  the  said  garrisons ;  and  it 
shall  be  prohibited  on  both  sides,  to  oflEer  anything  that  is  offensive ; 
and  the  parties  offending  shall  Le  punished  on  either  side. 

'•  XXV.  That  it  shall  be  lawful  for  the  said  garrison  to  march  out 
all  at  once,  or  at  different  times,  as  they  can  be  embarked,  with 
arms,  baggage,  drums  beating,  match  l^hted  at  both  ends,  bullet 
in  mouth,  colors  flying,  six  brass  guns,  such  as  the  besieged  wiU 
choose,  two  mortar-pieces,  and  half  the  ammunition  that  is  now  in 
the  magazines  of  the  said  place ;  and  for  this  purpose,  an  inventory 
of  all  the  ammunition  in  the  garrison  shall  be  made,  in  the  presence 
of  any  person  that  the  General  shall  appoint,  the  next  day  after 
these  present  articles  shall  be  signed. 

"  XXVI.  All  the  magazines  of  provisions  shall  remain  in  the 
hands  of  those  that  are  now  employed  to  take  care  of  the  same,  for 
the  subsistence  of  those  of  the  Irish  army  that  will  pass  into  France : 
and  if  there  shall  not  be  suffioieat  in  the  stores  for  the  supxrart  of 


APPENDIX.  317 

the  said  troops  while  they  stay  in  this  kingdom,  and  are  crossing  the 
seas,  that,  upon  giving  up  an  account  of  their  numbers,  the  Gen- 
eral will  furnish  them  with  sufficient  provisions  at  the  King's  rates ; 
and  that  there  shall  be  a  free  market  at  Limerick,  and  other  quar- 
ters where  the  said  troops  shall  be ;  and  in  case  any  provision  shall 
remain  in  the  magazines  of  Limerick  when  the  town  shall  be  given 
up,  it  shall  be  valued,  and  the  price  deducted  out  of  what  is  to  be 
paid  for  the  provisions  to  be  furnished  to  the  troops  on  ship-board. 
"  XXVIL  That  there  shall  be  a  cessation  of  arms  at  land,  as  also 
at  sea,  vdth  respect  to  the  ships,  whether  English,  Dutch,  or  French, 
designed  for  the  transportation  of  the  said  troops,  until  they  shall 
be  returned  to  their  respective  harbors ;  and  that,  on  both  sides, 
they  shall  be  furnished  with  sufficient  passports  both  for  ships  and 
men ;  and  if  any  sea-commander,  or  captain  of  a  ship,  or  any  offi- 
cer, trooper,  dragoon,  soldier,  or  any  other  person,  shall  act  con- 
trary to  this  cessation,  the  persons  so  acting  shall  be  punished  on 
either  side,  and  satisfaction  shall  be  made  for  the  wrong  that  is 
done  ;  and  officers  shall  be  sent  to  the  mouth  of  the  river  of  Limer- 
ick, to  give  notice  to  the  commanders  of  the  English  and  French 
fleets  of  the  present  conjuncture,  that  they  may  observe  the  cessa- 
tion of  arms  accordingly. 

"  XXVIIL  That  for  the  security  of  the  execution  of  this  present 
capitulation,  and  of  each  article  therein  contained,  the  besieged 

shall  give  the  following  hostages And  the  General  shall 

give 

"  XXIX.  If  before  this  capitulation  is  fully  executed,  there  hap- 
pens any  change  in  the  government,  or  command  of  the  army, 
which  is  now  commanded  by  General  Ginkle  ;  all  those  that  shall  be 
appointed  to  command  the  same,  shall  be  obliged  to  observe  and  ex- 
ecute what  is  specified  in  these  articles,  or  cause  it  to  be  executed 
punctually,  and  shall  not  act  contrary  on  any  account. 

^'  In  faith  of  which  we  have  subscribed  our  names,  the  13th  of 
October,  1691. 

{Signed) 

D'USSON, 

LE    CHEVALIER  DE  TESSE, 

LUCAN, 

WACHOP, 

LA  TOUR-MONTFORT, 

CHARLES  PORTER, 

THOMAS  CONINGSBY, 

BARON  GINKLE. 


Many  English  writers  have  extolled  the  honorable  and  favorable 
terms  accorded  in  the  foregoing  treaty  to  the  Irish  army  and  the 
people  whom  it  represented,  ignoring  altogether  the  fact  that  Eng- 
land never  fulfilled  any  of  the  stipulations  in  her  part  of  the  com- 
pact, with  the  single  exception  of  that  which  bound  her  to  facilitate 
the  departure  from  the  Irish  soil  of  the  armed  and  organized  native 


318 


APPENDIX, 


troops,  whom  the  partisans  of  the  new  Asglo-Dutch  regime  heartily 
feared  and  hated.  These  writers  also  studiously  avoid  and  keep 
out  of  sight  the  additional  and  stiU  more  important  reason,  that,  at 
this  very  time,  the  fortunes  of  William  of  Orang-e  (then  fighting  a 
losing  battle  on  the  Continent)  were  in  a  condition  so  critical,  that 
he  had  written  to  his  Irish  Lords  Justices,  instructing  them  that,  if 
by  that  means  they  could  possibly  bring  the  war  in  Ireland  to  an 
end,  they  should  offer  the  Irish  people  terms  much  more  advan- 
tageous than  those  granted  by  the  **  Treaty  of  Limerick ; "  and  a 
proclamation  to  that  effect  had  been  actually  prepared  and  printed, 
but  was  never  published,  as  the  capitulation  of  the  Irish  army 
enabled  the  shrewd  ministers  of  England's  "policy  "  toHrive  a  better 
bargain  for  their  own  side.  It  can  scarcely  be  said,  however,  that  the 
Irish  lost  anything  by  the  suppression  of  this  ' '  Secret  Proclamation," 
as  it  has  since  been  called ;  for  the  government  which  so  shamelessly 
violated  the  faith  which  was  plighted  in  the  subsequent  treaty, 
would  have  as  readily  and  certainly  have  refused  to  fulfil  any 
promise  made  to  a  people  to  whom  it  has  never  conceded  one  atom 
of  justice  that  was  not  wrung  from  it  by  armed  force,  or  the  influ- 
ence of  craven  fear. 

Under  the  provisions  of  the  Treaty  of  Limerick,  some  twenty 
thousand  of  the  men  who  had  fought  for  James  in  Ireland,  with" 
their  oflBcers,  embarked  for  France,  where  they  took  service  in  the 
French  army,  though,  for  a  long  time  after,  the  French  Court  af- 
fected to  regard  them  as  still  the  soldiers  of  "  Our  august  aUy,  His 
Majesty,  King  James  II.  of  England,"  and  to  treat  their  presence  in 
the  French  ranks  in  the  same  light  as  that  in  which  the  Spanish 
and  Austrian  contingents  in  the  army  under  King  WiUiam  and 
Prince  Eugene  were  viewed.  In  the  early  part  of  the  struggle  for 
the  English  crown,  James,  to  conciliate  the  good-will  of  the  French 
monarch,  had  dispatched  to  France  seven  thousand  veteran  Irish 
soldiers,  under  Justin  MacCarty,  Lord  Mountcashel,  in  exchange 
for  an  equal  number  of  raw  and  very  inefficient  French  levies,  whose 
presence  in  Ireland  was  always  lamented  by  the  Irish  leaders  as  an 
obstruction  and  a  burden  rather  than  an  advantage.  The  acces- 
sion of  the  large  reinforcements  under  Sarsfield,  Wachop,  and  the 
other  officers  who  capitulated  at  Limerick,  at  once  swelled  'the  Irish 
contingent  in  the  French  service  into  proportions  that  rendered  it 
an  important  element  in  the  military  calculations  of  the  time  ;  and 
it  is  not  improbable  that,  in  his  too  ready  and  thoroughly  disgrace- 
ful acquiescence  in  the  repeated  violations  of  the  treaty  stipulations 


APPENDIX.  \  319 

to  which  he  had  formally  pledged  his  royal  word,  William  HL 
was  somewhat  influenced  by  chagrin  and  disappointment,  at  finding 
that,  instead  of  the  termination  of  the  struggle  in  Ireland  proving 
an  advantage  to  him  in  his  Continental  warfare,  that  very  event,  on 
which  he  had  built  so  much,  had  pitted  against  him  and* his  allies 
a  formidable  force  of  trained  veteran  soldiers,  whose  valor  and  effi- 
ciency contributed  materially  to  every  disaster  and  reverse  that 
overtook  his  most  cherished  strategical  combinations,  from  his  own' 
route  at  Steinkdrk,  to  the  repulse  of  his  Austrian  allies  at  Cremona, 
which  latter  defeat  (occurring  shortly  before  his  death)  he  felt 
keenly,  perhaps  as  a  merited  retribution  for  his  unfaithfulness  to  his 
plighted  word. 

The  first  marked  breach  of  the  articles  of  the  treaty  of  Limerick 
occurred  immediately  on  the  departure  of  the  first  detachment  of 
the  Irish  army,  about  a  month  subsequent  to  the  capitulation.  The 
writers  of  the  time  are  generally  agreed  that  neither  General  Ginkle, 
nor  the  English  Lords  Justices,  anticipated  that  any  large  number 
of  the  Irish  would  accept  the  condition  of  voluntary  exile  implied 
in  the  military  articles  of  the  treaty,  or  would  abandon  their  homes 
and  native  soil  for  the  precarious  fortune  of  foreign  military  service. 
Ginkle,  indeed,  who  knew  the  mettle  of  the  Irish  soldiers,  was  in 
hopes  that  he  would  be  able 'to  enlist  them  in  his  own  army ;  and  he 
held  out  to  them  the  most  tempting  inducements  to  take  service 
under  William.  But  scarcely  any,  even  of  those  who  decided  not  to 
go  to  France,  could  be  got  to  enter  the  army  of  him  against  whom 
they  had  fought  as  an  usurper ;  and,  as  has  been  stated,  the  bulk 
of  the  army  preferred  banishment  as  soldiers  to  the  disarmament  and 
slavery  which  awaited  them  in  their  native  land.  The  English 
Commissioners,  thinking  that  the  permission  to  carry  their  families 
with  them,  embodied  in  the  first  of  the  military  articles,  had  much 
to  do  with  the  unexpected  largeness  of  the  emigration,  determined 
to  try  whether  they  could  not  check  the  exodus  of  the  fighting  men 
by  denying  the  promised  transportation  to  the  women  and  children! 
Harris,  the  biographer  of  King  William,  expressly  confesses  this  in 
his  * '  Life  "  of  that  monarch,  where  he  says  : 

'■''  As  great  numbers  of  the  officers  and  soldiers  had  resolved  to 
enter  into  the  service  of  France,  and  to  carry  their  families  with 
them,  Ginkle  would  not  suffer  their  wives  and  children  to  be  shipped 
off  with  the  men  ;  not  doubting  that  by  detaining  the  former  he 
would  have  prevented  many  of  the  latter  from  going  into  that 
service.  This,  I  say,  was  confessedly  an  infringement  of  the 
Articles." 


320 


APPENDIX. 


Of  the  extent  of  the  injustice  of  this  preliminary  violation  of  the 
treaty,  some  idea  may  be  formed  from  the  statement  of  Macaulay, 
that — "  Cork  and  its  neighborhood  were  filled  with  the  kindred  of 
those  who  were  going  abroad.  Great  numbers  of  women,  many  of 
them  leading,  carrying,  suckling  their  infants,  covered  all  the  roads 
which  led  to  the  place  of  embarkation."  •  AU  these  poor  creatures 
naturally  expected  that,  as  had  been  agreed,  they  would  be  provided 
for  in  the  ships  in  which  their  male  protectors  were  to  be  em- 
barked. But  the  English  Commissioners  had  no  notion  of  keeping 
faith  with  them,  when  once  the  strong  arms  of  those  defenders  had 
been  got  rid  of ;  and  while,  to  the  last,  deluding  them  with  false 
hopes,  they  failed  to  provide  the  promised  transportation.  The 
consequences  were  terrible,  and  must  forever  remain  an  .indelible 
blot  upon  the  English  name.  Even  Macaulay,  bitterly  hostile  as  he 
was  to  everything  Irish,  and  ready  at  aU  times  to  pervert  the 
truth  of  history  in  favor  of  his  own  nation,  was  forced  to  describe, 
in  language  that  thrills  the  human  heart,  the  final  catastrophe,  the 
responsibility  for  which  he  mendaciously,  but  vainly,  tries  to  shift 
from  the  shoulders  of  the  English  officials  to  those  of  the  gallant 
Sarsfield.     In  his  narration  of  the  events  of  the  time,  he  says : 

"  After  the  soldiers  had  embarked,  room  was  found  for  the  fami- 
lies of  many.  But  stiU  there  remained  on  the  water-side  a  great 
multitude,  clamoring  piteously  to  be  taken  on  board.  As  the  last 
boats  put  off  there  was  a  rush  into  the  surf.  8ome  women  caught 
Jwld  of  the  ropes,  were  dragged  out  of  their  depth,  dung  till  their 
fingers  were  cut  through,  and  perished  in  the  waves.  The  ships 
began  to  move.  A  wild  and  terrible  wail  rose  from  the  shore,  and 
excited  unwonted  compassion  in  hearts  steeled  by  hatred  of  the 
Irish  race  and  of  the  Bomish  faith.  Even  the  stem  Cromwellian, 
now  at  length,  after  a  desperate  struggle  of  three  years,  left  the 
undisputed  lord  of  the  blood-stained  and  devastated  island,  could 
not  hear  unmoved  that  bitter  cry,  in  which  was  poured  forth  all  the 
rage  and  all  the  sorrow  of  a  conquered  nation." 

What  wonder  that,  with  the  memory  of  that  crowniag  wrong 
rankling  in  their  hearts, — with  that  wail — "  their  women's  parting 
cry,"  as  Davis  has  so  forcibly  styled.it — forever  ringing  in  their  ears, 
those  Irish  soldiers  were  ever  after  the  most  implacable  enemies  of 
England ;  and  that  never  did  they  find  themselves  arrayed  against 
the  upholders  of  her  hated  flag,  that  the  recollection  did  not  nerve 
their  arms  and  inflame  their  hearts,  till  each  one  felt 

"  as  if  revenge  for  all  were  staked  on  him  alone." 

r 

The  utter'  worthlessness  of  the  treaty  to   bind  England  was 


APPENDIX.  321 

speedily  shown.  Jolin  Mitchel,  in  his  "  History  of  Ireland,"  thus 
tersely  reviews  the  manner  in  which,  from  the  very  beginning,  it 
was  set  aside :  . 

*'  As  there  has  been,  both  among  Irish  and  English  political  writ- 
ers, a  great  deal  of  wild  declamation  and  unwarranted  statement  on 
this  subject,  it  seems  needful  to  give  a  precise  view  of  the  real  pur- 
port and  limitations  of  the  engagements  taken  towards  the  Irish 
Catholics  upon  this  occasion.  Independently,  then,  of  the  royal 
promise  of  future  parliamentary  relief,  to  '  protect  Catholics  from 
all  disturbance,'  there  was  the  general  engagement  for  such  privi- 
leges to  Catholics  in  the  exercise  of  their  religion  '  as  were  consist- 
ent with  the  laws  of  Ireland ;  or,  as  they  did  enjoy  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  U.'  And  also  the  ninth  article  of  the  treaty,  that  ^  The 
oath  to  be  administered  to  such  Roman  Catholics  as  submit  to  their 
majesties'  government  shall  be  the  oath  above  mentioned  (namely, 
the  oath  of  allegiance),  and  no  other.'  These  provisions  were  appli- 
cable to  all  CathoKcs  living  in  any  part  of  Ireland.  Other  articles 
of  the  treaty,  from  the  second  to  the  eighth  inclusive,'  related  only, 
firsts  to  the  people  of  Limerick  and  other  garrisons  then  held  by  the 
Irish ;  second^  to  officers  and  soldiers  then  serving  King  James,  in 
the  counties  of  Limerick,  Clare,  Kerry,  Cork,  and  Mayo ;  tMrd^  to 
'  all  such  as  were  under  their  protection  in  the  said  counties,'  mean- 
ing all  the  inhabitants  of  those  counties.  These  three  classes  of 
persons  were  to  be  secured  their  properties  and  their  rights,  privi- 
leges, and  immunities  (as  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second),  and 
to  be  permitted  to  exercise  their  several  callings  as  freely  as  Catho- 
lics were  permitted  to  do  in  that  reign.  We  need  not,  at  this  day, 
occupy  ourselves  at  great  length  witii  these  latter  specific  stipula- 
tions ;  but  attend  to  the  general  proviso  in  favor  of  all  Catholics. 
What,  then,  were  the  rights  of  Catholics  under  King  Charles  the 
Second  ? — for  this  seems  to  be  what  is  meant  by  the  other  phrase, 
'  consistent  with  the  laws  of  Ireland.' 

^'Now  it  is  true  that  penal  laws  against  Catholic  priests  and 
Catholic  worship  did  exist  in  Ireland  during  the  reign  of  Charles  the 
Second  :  Catholics,  for  example,  could  not  be  members  of  a  corpo- 
ration in  Ireland,  nor  hold  certain  civil  offices  in  that  reign.  But 
there  was  no  law  to  prevent  Catholic  peers  and  commoners  from 
sitting  in  parliament.  There  was  also  in  practice  so  general  a  tolera- 
tion as  allowed  Catholic  lawyers  and  physicians  to  practise  their 
professions.  At  the  very  lowest,  therefore,  this  practical  toleration 
must  have  been  what  the  Catholics  thought  they  were  stipulating 
for  in  the  Articles  of  Limerick.  Neither  did  there  exist  in  the 
reign  of  Charles  the  Second  that  long  and  sanguinary  series  of  en- 
actments concerning  education,  the  holding  of  land,  the  owning  of 
horses,  and  the  like,  which  were  elaborated  by  the  ingenuity  of 
more  modem  chiefs  of  the  Protestant  Ascendancy.  The  first  dis- 
tinct breach  of  the  Articles  of  Limerick  was  perpetrated  by  King 
William  and  his  parliament  in  England,  just  two  months  after  those 
Articles  were  signed. 

^'King'Williaan  was  in  the  Netherlands  when  he  heard  of  the 
14* 


322 


APPENDIX. 


surrender  of  Limerick,  and  at  once  hastened  to  London.  Three 
days  later  he  summoned  a  parliament.  Very  early  in  the  session 
the  English  House  of  Commons,  exercising  its  customary  power  of 
binding  Ireland  by  acts  passed  in  Lon<fon,  sent  up  to  the  House  of 
Lords  a  bill  providing  that  no  person  should  sit  in  the  Lrish  parlia- 
ment, nor  should  hold  any  Irish  office,  civil,  military,  or  ecclesiasti- 
cal, nor  should  practise  law  or  medicine  in  Ireland,  till  he  had  taken 
the  oaths  of  allegiance  and  supremacy,  and  subscribed  the  declara- 
tion against  transubstantiation.  The  law  was  passed,  only  reserv- 
ing the  right  of  such  lawyers  and  physicians  m  had  been  within  the 
waUs  of  Oalway  and  Limerick  wJien  those  towns  capitulated.  And  so 
it  received  the  royal  assent.  This  law  has  given  rise  to  keen  de- 
bates ;  especially  during  the  Catholic  Relief  agitation ;  the  Catho- 
lics insisting  that  disabilities  imposed  by  law  on  account  of  religion, 
are  an  invasion  of  those  privileges  in  the  exercise  of  their  religion, 
which  purported  to  be  secured  by  treaty ;  the  Ascendancy  Party 
arguing  that  the  first  article  of  the  treaty  meant  only  that  Catholic 
worship  should  be  tolerated.  The  Catholics  pointed  out  that  by 
Article  Nine,  only  the  oath  of  allegiance  was  to  be  imposed  on 
them,  while  this  new  law  required  those  who  should  practise  law  or 
Bit  in  the  House  of  Parliament,  to  take  a  certain  other  oath,  which 
they  could  not  do  without  perjuring  themselves.  The  Ascendancy 
Party  replied  that  on  taking  the  oath  of  allegiance  alone.  Catholics 
were  tolerated  in  their  worship,  and  that  this  was  all  they  had  stipu- 
lated for ;  that  it  still  belonged  to  the  Legislature  to  prescribe  suit- 
able formalities  to  be  observed  by  those  who  aspired  to  exercise  a 
public  trust  or  a  responsible  profession.  It  is  apparent  that  on  this 
principle  of  interpretation,  parliament  might  require  the  oath  of 
supremacy  from  a  baker  or  a  wine-merchant,  as  well  as  from  a  law- 
yer and  doctor ;  and  then  it  would  be  lawful  for  a  Catholic  to  go  and 
hear  Mass,  but  it  would  be  lawful  for  him  to  do  nothing  else." 

The  succeeding  steps,  by  which  the  other  provisions  of  the  Treaty 
were  abrogated,  were  swift  and  sure  ;  and  may  be  thus  briefly  con- 
densed from  the  pages  of  the  same  historian :  In  1692,  the  Lord 
Lieutenant,  Lord  Sydney,  convened  the  first  Irish  Parliament  of 
William's  reign.  It  was  the  first  Parliament  in  Ireland  (except 
that  convened  by  James)  for  twenty-six  years.  As  there  was  then 
no  Irish  Act  disqualifying  Catholics  from  sitting  in  Parliament,  cer- 
tain peers  and  a  few  commoners  of  that  faith  attended,  and  took 
their  seats  :  but  the  English  Parliament  of  the  year  before  having 
provided  against  this,  they  were  at  once  met  by  the  oath  of  suprem- 
acy, declaring  the  King  of  England  head  of  the  Church,  and  affirm- 
ing the  sacrifice  of  the  Mass  to  be  damnable.  The  oath  was  put  to 
each  member  of  both  houses,  and  the  few  Catholics  present  at  onbe 
retired,  so  that  the  Parliament,  when  it  proceded  to  business,  was 
purely  Protestant,  Here  then  ended  the  last  vestige  of  constitu- . 
tiotnal  right  for  the  Catholics  :  from  this  date,  and  for  generations 


APPENDIX.  323 

to  come,  they  could  no  longer  consider  themselves  a  part  of  the  ex- 
isting bodj-politic  of  their  native  land ;  and  the  division  into  two 
nations  became  definite.  By  another  act  of  the  Irish  Parliament,  in 
1697  (9th  Wm.  III.,  chap.  3)  it  was  enacted,  that  "a  Protestant 
marrying  a  Catholic  was  disabled  from  sitting  or  voting  in  either 
House  of  Parliament."  But  as  Catholics  could  still  vote  at  elections 
(though  they  could  now  vote  for  none  but  their  mortal  enemies), 
even  this  poor  privilege  was  taken  away  from  them  a  few  years 
later.  In  1727,  it  was  enacted  that  "  no  Catholic  shall  be  entitled 
or  admitted  to  vote  at  the  election  of  any  member  to  serve  in  Par- 
liament as  a  knight,  citizen,  or  burgess ;  or  at  the  election  of  any 
magistrate  for  any  city,  or  other  town  corporate  ;  any  law,  statute, 
or  usage  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding." — (1  Geo.  DL  cap.  9.) 

Lord  Sydney  was  succeeded  as  Lord  Lieutenant  by  Lord  Capel, 
who  (as  Harris  confesses),  ''  was  desirous  to  do  all  in  his  power  to 
infringe  the  Treaty."  This  model  English  governor  summoned  a 
Parliament  in  Dublin,  in  1695 ;  and  as  things  were  then  going  well 
with  England  and  her  allies  on  the  Continent,  the  time  was  thought 
appropriate  for  more  grinding  oppression  of  the  "  Irish  Papists." 
The  first  step  was  to  effectually  disarm  them.  Accordingly,  one  of 
the  first  enactments  of  this  Parliament  is  entitled  ''  An  Act  for  the 
better  securing  the  government  by  disarming  the  Papists."  (7  Wm. 
III.  c.  5.)  By  this  act,  all  Catholics  within  the  kingdom  of  Ireland 
were  required  to  discover  and  deliver  up,  by  a  certain  day,  all  their 
arms  and  ammunition.  After  that  day  search  might  be  made  in 
their  houses  for  concealed  arms  and  ammunition  ;  and  any  two  jus- 
tices, or  a  mayor,  or  a  sheriff,  might  grant  the  search-warrant,  and 
compel  any  Catholic  suspected  of  having  concealed  arms,  to  appear 
before  them,  and  answer  the  charge  or  suspicion  upon  his  oath. 
The  punishments  were  to  be  fi,ne  and  imprisonment,  or,  at  the  dis- 
cretion of  the  court,  the  pillory  and  whipping. 

The  next  move  of  the  Parliament  was  to  prohibit  education. 
Catholics  were  already  debarred  from  being  tutors  or  teachers  ;  and 
many  Catholic  young  men  were  sent  for  education  to  the  schools 
and  universities  of  the  Continent.     It  was  therefore  enacted : 

"  That  if  any  subjects  of  Ireland  should,  after  that  session,  go, 
or  send  any  child  or  person,  to  be  educated  in  any  popish  univer- 
sity, college,  or  school,  or  in  any  private  family ;  or  if  such  child 
should,  by  any  popish  person,  be  instructed  in  the  popish  religion ; 
,  or  if  any  subjects  of  Ireland  should  send  money  or  things  towards 
the  maintenance  of  such  child,  or  other  person,  already  sent,  or  to 
be  sent,  every  such  offender,  being  thereof  convicted,  should  be 


324  APPENDIX. 

forever  disabled  to  sue  or  prosecute  any  action,  bill,  plaint,  or  in- 
formation in  law  or  equity ;  to  be  guardian,  administrator,  or  ex- 
ecutor to  any  person,  or  to  be  capable  of  any  legacy,  or  deed  of 
gift ;  and,  besides,  should  forfeit  all  their  estates,  both  real  and 
personal,  during  their  lives."    (4  Wm.  &  Mary,  cap,  4.) 

It  was  further  enacted,  that  "No  Papist,  after  the  20th  January, 
1695,  shall  be  capable  to  have,  or  keep  in  his  possession,  or  in  the 
possession  of  any  other,  to  his  use,  or  at  his  disposition,  any  Tiorse^ 
gddiuQf  or  rnare^  of  the  value  of  £5  or  more ; "  and  any  Protestant 
could  seize  upon  a  Catholic's  horse  (no  matter  how  valuable),  if  he 
refused  to  sell  it  for  the  sum  mentioned. 

Finally,  as  though  to  dispel  the  very  idea  of  toleration  for  Irish 
Catholics,  this  Parliament  enacted  "  That  all  Popish  archbishops, 
bishops,  vicars-general,  deans,  Jesuits,  monks,  friars,  and  all  other 
regular  popish  clergy,  and  all  papists  exercising  any  ecclesiastical 
jurisdiction,  shall  depart  this  kingdom  before  the  1st  day  of  May, 
1698."  If  any  of  them  remained  after  that  day,  or  returned,  the  de- 
linquents were  to  be  transported,  and  if  they  returned  again,  '*  to  be 
guilty  of  high  treason,  and  to  suffer  accordingly,"  that  is,  to  be 
"hanged,  drawn,  and  quartered."  And  by  another  statute  it  im- 
posed a  fine  of  two  shillings  (and,  in  default  of  payment,  whipping) 
upon  "  every  common  laborer,  being  hired,  or  other  servant  retained, 
who  shall  refuse  to  work  at  the  usual  and  accustomed  wages,  upon 
any  day  except  the  days  appointed  by  this  statute  to  be  kept  holy  ; 
namely,  all  Sundays  in  the  year,  and  certain  other  days  named 
therein." 

After  the  treaty  of  Blswick,  in  1697,  by  which  peace  was  restored 
to  Europe,  the  greater  part  of  the  standing  army  in  England  was  to 
have  been  disbanded,  but  money  was  wanting  to  pay  the  arrears  due 
to  the  officers,  provision-contractors,  eta  The  English,  however, 
soon  4iiscovered  means  for  these  purposes,  without  any  cost  to  them- 
selvea  A  supply  of  one  million  sterling  was  granted  by  Parliament, 
to  be  raised  by  the  confiscation  of  the  estates  of  the  Irish  Catholics 
who  had  taken  up  arms  for  James  II.  after  the  year  1688.  Under 
this  enactment  three  thousand  nine  hundred  and  twenty-one  Irish 
proprietors  were  deprived  of  their  estates,  or  forced  to  compound 
for  them  by  heavy  fines,  though  all  of  this  class  had  been  covered 
by  the  treaty  of  Limerick, 

Having  thus  stripped  the  Irish  people  of  all  civil  and  religious 
rights,  and  of  their  property  in  land,  the  English  Parliament,  with 
the  concurrence  of  King  WilUam,  in  1699,  proceeded  to  destroy  the 


APPENDIX.  325 

Irish  trade.  All  export  of  Irish  woollen  cloths  was  prohibited,  ex- 
cept to  England  and  Wales.  The  exception  was  delusive,  because 
heavy  duties,  amounting  to  a  prohibition,  prevented  Irish  cloth  from 
being  imported  into  England  or  Wales.  Irish  wool,  thereafter,  had 
to  be  sent  to  England  in  a  raw  state,  to  be  woven  in  Yorkshire  ;  and 
even  this  export  was  cramped  by  appointing  one  srngle  English  port, 
Barnstable,  as  the  only  point  where  it  could  legally  enter.  All  at- 
tempts at  foreign  commerce  in  Ireland  were  at  this  time  impeded 
also  by  the  "Navigation  Laws,"  which  had  long  prohibited  all  di- 
rect trade  between  Ireland  and  the  Colonies  ;  no  colonial  produce, 
under  those  laws,  could  be  carried  to  Ireland  until  after  it  should 
have  first  entered  an  English  port,  and  been  unloaded  there. 

It  might  be  supposed  that  the  treaty  had  been  so  thoroughly  set 
aside  during  the  reign  of  William,  who  signed  it,  that  not  a  shred 
would  have  remained  for  his  successor  to  violate.  Nevertheless,  the 
first  Parliament  convened  by  Queen  Anne  passed  a  bill  "to  prevent 
the  further  growth  of  Popery,"  in  which  the  third  clause  enacts  that 
if  the  son  of  a  Papist  shall  at  any  time  become  a  Protestant,  his 
father  may  not  sell  or  mortgage  his  estate,  or  dispose  of  it,  or  any 
portion  of  it,  by  will.  The  f  otuiyh  clause  provides  tiiat  a  Papist  shall 
not  be  guardian  to  his  own  child ;  and  further,  that  if  his  child,  no 
matter  how  young,  conforms  to  the  Protestant  religion,  he  reduces 
his  father  at  once  to  a  tenant  for  life  ;  the  child  is  to  be  taken  from 
its  father,  and  placed  under  the  guardianship  of  the  nearest  Pro- 
testant relation.  The  sixth  clause  renders  Papists  incapable  of  pur- 
chasing any  landed  estates,  or  rents  or  profits  arising  out  of  land,  or 
holding  any  lease  of  lives,  or  any  other  lease  for  any  term  exceed- 
ing thirty-one  years ;  and  even  in  such  leases  the  reserved  rent  must 
be  at  least  "  one- third  of  the  improved  Hnnnal  value ;  "  any  Protes- 
tant who  discovers  being  entitled  to  the  interest  in  the  lease.  The 
seventh  clause  prohibits  Papists  from  succeeding  to  the  property  of 
their  Protestant  relatioiis.  The  tenth  clause  provides  that  the  estate 
of  a  Papist  who  has  no  Protestant  heir  shall  be  gavdLed  ;  that  is, 
parcelled  in  equal  shares  between  all  his  children.  And  the  15th, 
16th,  and  17th  clauses,  carefully  deprived  the  citizens  of  Limerick 
and  Galway  of  the  poor  privilege  promised  them  in  the  treaty,'  of 
living  in  their  own  towns  and  carrying  on  their  trade  there,  after  the 
24th  of  March,  1703. 

The  foregoing  is  only  a  general  review  of  the  direct  violations  of 
the  treaty  of  Limerick  by  the  English  Parliament  and  government, 
and  is  far  from  being  a  complete  statement  of  the  case,  which  would 
occupy  more  space  than  can  be  devoted  to  it  in  this  volume.  Indeed, 
as  John  Mitchel  says :  "  The  whole  history  of  Ireland,  from  the  day 
that  Sarsfield  marched  out  of  Limerick,  until  the  year  1793,  consists 
of  one  long  and  continual  breach  of  this  treaty." 

It  was  only  when  England,  crippled  by  her  defeat  at  the  hands  of 
the  American  patriots,  was  trembling  before  the  approach  of  the 
French  Bevolution,  that,  like  a  robber  over  whom  the  sword  of 
judgment  is  suspended,  she  began  to  make  partial  restitution,  not 
from  the  love  of  right  or  justice,  but  in  the  hope  of  escaping  the 
full  penalty  due  to  her  crimes. 


NOTES 


ANcmNT  Civilization  op  the  Ibise. 


Ibelaitd  was  known  to  the  early  Greek  historians  and  geogra- 
phers under  the  name  of  *'  lema ; "  by  some  of  the  ancient  Boman 
writers  it  is  styled  '■  Juvema"  and  "Iren;"  and,  by  Diodorus 
Siculus,  "Iris."  The  inhabitants  are  called  by  the  same  authors, 
"  Irenses"  and  "  Iri,"  from  which  we  can  easily  trace  the  deriva- 
tion of  the  terms  "  Irish "  and  "  Ireland,"  which  latter  name, 
according  to  O'Sullivan,  only  came  into  permanent  use  among  the 
English  in  the  tenth  or  eleventh  century.  Plutarch  calls  the 
island  "  Ogygia ;  "  but  this  must  be  taken  as  referring  to  the  recog- 
nized antiquity  of  the  country,  rather  than  as  a  definite  appellation. 
Tacitus,  and  the  greater  number  of  the  Latin  writers  called  the 
island  "  Hibemia."  The  name  of  "  Eire,"  or  "  Erin,"  was  given  to 
it  by  its  own  inhabitants,  who  called  themselves  "Erinachs,"  and 
were  recognized  by  that  title  (or  its  Latin  equivalent,  "Erigena") 
among  the  Continental  nations.  This  designation  is  said  to  have 
been  derived  from  Eire,  a  celebrated  Tuatha  de  Danaan  Queen  of 
the  island,  as  the  name  of  "  Scotie,"  or  "  Scotia,"  by  which  it  was 
called  after  the  landing  of  the  Milesians,  was  derived  from  Scota, 
the  widow  of  Milesius,  who  fell  in  the  first  battle  fought  by  the 
Iberian  invaders  with  the  Tuatha  de  Danaans,  who  had  previously 
colonized  and  held  the  country.  As  late  as  the  fifth  (some  assert 
even  to  the  eleventh)  century,  it  is  certain  that  the  Boman  writers 
(as  well  as  the  Saxon  annalists  of  England)  designated  the  inhabi- 
tants of  Ireland  as  "  Scoti,"  or  Scots. 

O'Flaherty,  in  his  "  Ogygia,"  fixes  the  colonization  of  Ireland  by 
the  Milesians  as  taking  place  in  the  time  of  Solomon,  or  about  a 
thousand  years  before  the  birth  of  Christ.  It  is  not  definitely  de- 
cided whether  these  Iberian  colonists  were  pure  "  Fire -worship- 
pers "  at  the  time  of  their  arrival,  or  whether  they  learned  the 
worship  of  the  sun  from  the  Tuatha  de  Danaans,  whom  they  sup- 
planted in  the  government  and  possession  of  the  island ;  but  the 


NOTLJS,  327 

ancient  annals  relate,  that  Tighemmas,  the  seventh  of  the  MilftffiftM 
kings,  was  the  first  to  introduce  idolatry  among  the  people ;  and  he 
and  a  number  of  his  followers  having  been  killed  by  lightning,  while 
worshipping  an  idol  called  "  Grom  Cruadth^''  near  where  the  town 
of  Mohill,  in  Leitrim,  now  stands,  his  death  was  regarded  as  the 
natural  punishment  of  his  guilt.  That  the  ancient  Irish  believed  in 
the  existence  of  a  number  of  divinities,  mostly  represented  by  the 
elements,  is  apparent  from  the  fact  that  their  most  solemn  and 
binding  oath  was  "  by  sun  and  wind." 

It  is  agreed  by  all  historians  that  the  Romans  never  extended 
their  conquests  to  Ireland;  though  the  Roman  colonies  in  Britain 
and  Gau]  were  frequently  attacked  by  the  pagan  Irish  and  their 
warlike  allies,  the  Picts. 

It  is  evident  that  arts  and  manufactures  flourished  in  Ireland 
from  the  earliest  ages  of  which  we  have  any  authentic  records. 
The  Druids,  or  pagan  priests,  possessed  considerable  knowledge  of 
medicine,  and  were  skilled  astronomers.  Among  the  Bards,  music 
and  poetry  as  well  as  the  study  of  history  were  cultivated  to  a  high 
degree.  During  the  reign  of  Tighemmas  (mentioned  above),  gold 
was  discovered  in  what  is  now  the  County  of  Wicklow ;  and  silver 
was  afterwards  found  at  Airgiodross.  A  foundry  was  established 
on  the  borders  of  the  river  Barrow,  in  which  coats-of-mail,  bucklers, 
and  other  armor  were  made,  and  given  by  the  kings  to  such  war- 
like men  as  distinguished  themselves  in  battle.  A  mint  was  also 
founded  for  the  coining  of  the  ancient  "ring-money,"  as  also  for 
manufacturing  gold  chains  and  "  torques,"  which  the  kings  and 
nobles  wore  upon  their  necks  as  marks  of  distinction ;  rings,  like- 
wise, were  presented  to  those  who  distinguished  themselves  in  the 
arts  and  sciences.  Thus  it  can  be  said  that  gold  and  silver  were  in 
general  use  in  Ireland,  even  in  the  most  remote  ages  of  paganism. 
This  abundance  of  wealth  was  increased,  in  the  early  periods  of 
Christianity,  by  the  riches  the  inhabitants  gained  from  the  frequent 
voyages  they  made  into  Britain  and  other  countries.  The  immense 
treasures  that  the  Normans  plundered  from  the  Irish  churches  and 
monasteries,  as  well  as  the  annual  tribute  of  an  ounce  of  gold,  called 
^'  airgiod-froin^^'*  exacted  from  the  natives  by  the  Danish  barbarians, 
during  their  dominion  over  them,  furnish  incontestible  proofs  of  its 
wealth  at  that  time.  In  the  '  *  Chronides  of  the  Abbey  of  Ratisbon," 
we  read  that — 

^'  Isaac  and  Gervasius,  who  were  descended  from  noble  parentage 
in  Ireland,  being  endowed  with  piety,  learning,  and  eloquence,  were 


328  NOTES, 

joined  by  two  others  of  Irish  descent,  viz. ,  Gonradus  Garpentarius, 
and  Guliehnua  ;  they  came  to  Ireland,  where,  after  paying  their  re- 
spects to  Conchnr  [Conor]  O^'Brien,  the  king  [of  Munster] ,  they  ex- 
plained to  him  the  objects  of  their  coming.  He  received  them  hos- 
pitably, and  after  a  few  days  sent  them  back  to  Germany,  laden 
with  gold,  sUver,  and  other  precions  gifts.  With  this  wealth  the 
abbot  purchased  several  farms,  towns,  and  country  seats ;  and  in 
the  city  of  Ratisbon,  bought  many  lots,  houses,  and  sumptuous 
buildings.  After  all  this,  there  remained  a  large  sum  of  that  which 
was  given  by  the  King  of  Ireland ;  this  the  abbot  Gregory  resolved 
to  apply  to  the  sacred  utensUs  of  the  temple,  and  with  it  he  also 
built  a  new  one,  ornamented  and  finished  with  carved  stone ;  like- 
wise a  monastery  of  great  extent,  after  taking  down  the  old  one, 
which  was  falling  into  ruins." 

The  arms  of  which  the  Milesian  Irish  made  use,  such  as  the 
sword,  the  spear,  the  battle-axe,  and  other  instruments,  wrought  in 
bronze  as  hard  as  steel,  as  well  as  in  iron,  show  that  there  were 
among  them  workmen  who  knew  how  to  make  use  of  the  hidden 
treasures  with  which  nature  had  enriched  their  island.  Their 
churches  and  houses  were  generally  built  of  wood,  proving  that 
there  were  skilled  carpenters  among  them.  The  Venerable  Bede 
says  that  their  churches  were  not  built  of  stone,  but  of  oak-wood 
artificially  wrought.  Saint  Bernard,  in  speaking  of  an  oratory 
which  Saint  Malachi  caused  to  be  built  in  Ireland,  says  that  it  was 
made  of  polished  wood  solidly  put  together ;  and  he  adds,  that  it 
was  a  very  handsome  Scotic  structure. 

Their  chariots,  whether  for  war  or  travelling,  and  the  great  num- 
ber of  ships  that  they  made  use  of,  as  well  for  fishing  (which  was 
largely  carried  on  among  them)  as  for  the  frequent  expeditions 
which  they  made  into  Britain  and  other  countries,  prove  that  they 
must  have  had  mechanics  to  construct  them.  In  ancient  times, 
they  made  use  of  boats  built  of  light  wood,  or  of  osier,  which  they 
covered  with  the  skins  of  horses  and  oxen,  and  which  they  called 
^■^  curraghsy  With  those  vessels  they  easily  crossed  the  sea  that 
separates  Ireland  from  Britain.  But  according  as  they  became  per- 
fect in  the  arts,  they  built  much  larger  and  more  solid  vessels,  to 
transport  their  armies  and  colonies  to  Albania,  as  Claudianus,  So- 
linus,  and  other  historians  testify. 

The  manufacture  of  doth,  stuffs,  and  everything  necessary  to 
cover  and  preserve  them  from  the  inclemency  of  the  weather,  was 
in  very  general  use  among  the  ancient  Irish.  Cambrensis  states 
that  the  men  wore  trousers  or  "braics,"  (in  Latin,  "braccse).** 
Among  the  Irish,  the  tunic,  drawers,  leggings,  and  boots,  were  com- 


NOTES.  329 

posed  of  one  piece,  and  fitted  tight  to  the  body.  Besides  this,  they 
wore  a  loose  cloak,  or  mantle,  which  was  tailed  a  ^'■faUuin"  equiv- 
alent to  the  ''^paJUum  "  of  the  Greeka  The  different  classes  among 
the  Irish  were  distinguished  by  the  number  of  colors  in  their  dress. 
The  mechanics  and  working  classes  wore  but  one  color ;  the  soldiers, 
two  ;  officers,  three  ;  those  who  exercised  hospitality,  four ;  the 
nobles,  five ;  the  historians  and  learned,  she ;  which  shows  the  esteem 
in  which  men  of  letters  were  held,  as  they  ranked  next  to  the  kings 
and  princes  of  the  blood,  who  wore  clothes  of  seven  colors. 

Among  the  Milesians,  music  formed  part  of  a  good  education ; 
every  one  was  desirous  of  knowing  how  to  sing  or  play  on  some 
instrument.  Giraldus  Gambrensis  bears  testimony  to  the  excellence 
of  the  Irish  music.     He  says : — 

"  I  discover  that  this  nation  pays  a  laudable  and  industrious  re- 
gard to  their  musical  pursuits,  and  excel,  in  this  particular,  every 
other  people.  Their  movements  in  music  are  quick  and  sweet,  their 
melody  and  concord  are  in  complete  harmony." 

Camden  in  his  "  History  "  (page  714)  says: — 

"  The  Irish  are  devoted  to  music  and  the  harp ;  they  strike  har- 
moniously the  strings,  which  are  of  brass,  with  their  naila" 

The  harp  was  the  instrument  in  most  general  use.  There  was 
one  in  every  house,  either  for  their  own  recreation,  or  for  those  strange 
musicians  who  passed  the  way. 

The  Irish  were  remarkable  for  their  hospitality.  Hie  unfortunate 
always  foimd  refuge  among  them.  The  Spaniards,  Gauls,  and 
Britons  sought  an  a^lum  in  Ireland,  to  secure  themselves  from 
the  tyranny  of  the  Bomans,  or  of  the  barbarians  by  whom  the  Bo- 
man  Empire  was  subsequently  overrun.  Princes  who  were  perse- 
cuted in  their  own  country,  found  there  a  safe  retreat.  Dagobert 
II.,  son  of  Sigebert,  King  of  Austrasia,  having  been  exjielled  his 
kingdom  by  Grimoald,  Mayor  of  the  Palace,  was  received  with  dis- 
tinction in  Ireland,  where  he  remained  in  exUe  during  twenty-five 
years.  Oswald,  King  of  the  Northumbrians,  with  his  brothers  and 
several  lords,  found  refuge  among  the  Irish,  with  whom  they  re- 
mained for  sixteen  years,  tlQ  the  death  of  the  tyrant  whose  fnxy 
they  wished  to  avoid.  Al&ed,  King  of  the  Northumbrians,  and  one 
of  the  successors  of  Oswald,  having  been  driven  from  the  throne  of 
his  ancestors,  withdrew  into  Ireland,  where  he  made  a  considerable 
prc^iress  in  the  study  of  literature,  and  in  the  art  of  governiog. 
Bede  mentions  a  number  of  Englishmen,  both  nobles  and  others, 
who  went  to  Ireland  in  the  time  of  the  holy  bishops  Finan  and  Col* 


330  NOTES. 

man,  to  be  instraoted  in  divine  learning,  and  to  i>6ifect  themselves 
in  the  practice  of  a  monastic  life.  He  adds,  also,  that  the  Irish  sup- 
plied them,  gratis,  with  everything  necessary  for  their  support,  even 
with  teachers,  and  with  books  for  their  studies,  at  a  time  wh^i 
books  could  not  be  bought  for  their  weight  in  gold. 

The  Dbfence  of  Limebick. 

In  the  first  siege  of  Limerick,  William  HL  felt  so  keenly  the  dis- 
grace of  his  repulse  from  the  battered  walls  of  the  town,  defended 
by  a  force  very  inferior  in  numbers  and  appointment  to  his  own, 
that  he  reproached  his  army  for  their  want  of  courage  and  spirit, 
and  taunted  them  with  the  superiority  of  the  Irish  garrison  in  this 
respect.  ^*  If  I  commanded,"  said  he,  *'  the  handful  of  men  who 
defend  this  place  against  you,  and  that  all  of  you  were  inside  in- 
stead, I  would  take  it  in  spite  of  you."  The  expression  was  some- 
what* similar  to  that  attributed  to  Hamilton,  at  the  Boyne,  when 
twitted  by  one  of  the  English  officers  with  the  defeat  of  the  Irish 
army.  ''Let  us  change  kings,"  he  replied,  "even  now,  and  we 
Ynil  fight  the  battle  over  again." 

The  Ibish  in  the  Sebyice  of  Fbance. 

In  addition  to  the  seven  thousand  Irish  veterans  under  Mount- 
cashel  sent  to  France  by  James  IL ,  (as  has  been  stated  elsewhere  in 
this  volume,)  who  constituted  what  was  called  the  "  Old  Brigade," 
the  surrender  of  Limerick  and  the  penal  enactments  which  speedily 
followed,  opened  up  a  new^and  continuous  source  of  military  emigra- 
tion to  France,  the  effect  of  which,  in  that  age  of  incessant  fighting, 
could  not  fail  to  be  of  the  utmost  importance.  The  numbers  of 
these  self -expatriated  soldiers  would  be  regarded  as  extraordinary, 
even  in  modem  days.  The  Abbe  MacGeoghegan,  who  was  chap- 
lain in  the  Brigade,  affirms  that  researches  in  the  office  of  the 
French  War  Department  show  that  from  the  arrival  of  the  Irish 
troops  in  France,  in  1601,  to  the  year  1745  (the  year  of  the  battle 
of  Fontenoy),  more  than  four  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  Irish-  \ 
men  died  in  the  service  of  France. 

Speaking  of  the  service  of  these  Irish  exiles  in  the  French  cam- 
paignsy  Mitchel,  in  his  "History  of  Ireland,"  says: — 

"Another  event  befell  in  the  summer  of  this  year,  1692,  which 
deserves  record.    On  a  July  morning,  about  the  time  when  the  Pro- 


NOTES.  331 

testant  Parliament  in  Dublin  was  dcTiflmg  cntining  oaths  against 
Transubstantiation  and  the  Inyocation  of  Saints,  to  drive  oat  its 
few  Catholic  members,  Patrick  Sarsfield,  and  some  of  his  comrades, 
just  fresh  from  Limerick,  had  the  deep  gratification  to  meet  King 
William  on  the  glorions  field  of  Steinldrk.  Sarsfield  and  Berwick 
were  then  officers  high  in  command  under  Marshal  Luxembourg, 
when  King  William,  at  the  head  of  a  great  allied  force,  attacked  the 
French  encampment.  The  attacking  force  was  under  the  banners  of 
England,  of  the  United  Provinces,  of  Spain  and  of  the  Empire ;  and 
it  had  all  the  advantage  of  effecting  a  surprise.  The  battle  was 
long  and  bloody,  and  was  finished  by  a  splendid  charge  of  French 
cavalry,  among  the  foremost  of  whose  leaders  was  the  same  glori- 
ous Sarsfield,  whose  sword  had  once  before  driven  back  the  same 
William  from  before  the  walls  of  Limerick.  The  English  and  their 
allies  were  entirely  defeated  in  that  battle,  with  a  loss  of  about  ten 
thousand  men. 

"  Once  more,  and  before  very  long,  Sar^eld  and  King  William 
were  destined  to  meet  again.  ....  For  neither  Luxembourg 
nor  William  allowed  the  grass  to  grow  under  their  horses'  hoofs. 
On  the  19th  of  July,  in  the  year  1693,  they  were  in  presence  again, 
on  the  banks  of  the  little  river  Landen,  and  close  by  the  village  of 
Neerwinden.  The  English  call  that  memorable  battle  by  the  first 
name,  and  the  French  by  the  second..  It  was  near  Li^;e,  in  the 
Netherlands,  that  famous  battle-ground  which  had  seen,  and  was 
again  to  see,  so  many  bloody  days.  This  time  it  was  the  French  who 
attacked  the  Allies  in  an  intrenched  position.  After  heavy  artillery 
firing  for  some  time,  the  French  made  a  desperate  attack  on  the  vil- 
lage of  Neerwinden ;  and  the  Duke  of  Berwick,  at  the  head  of  some 
Irish  troops,  led  the  onset,  supported  and  followed  by  the  left  wing 
of  the  French  army,  commanded  by  MontehevremL  The  slaughter 
in  the  village  was  tremendous,  and  here  Berwick  was  taken  prisoner. 
This  first  attack  failed,  and  after  a  furious  struggle  the  French  and 
Irish  were  forced  back.  A  fresh  division,  under  the  Duke  de  Bour- 
bon, renewed  the  attack,  which  was^again  repulsed ;  but  as  this  was 
the  important  point,  Luxembourg  resolvpd  to  make  a  final  stru^le 
for  it,  and  the  chosen  forces  of  King  Louis,  led  on  by  his  renowned 
household  troops,  were  launched  in  a  resistless  mass  against  the  vil- 
li^e.  A  third  time  it  was  entered,  and  a  third  time  there  was  a 
scene  of  fearful  carnage  in  its  streets.  Among  the  French  officers 
in  this  final  struggle  was  Patrick  Sarsfield.  King  William  fought 
his  army  td  the  Itist ;  but  Neerwinden  being  gone,  the  key  of  the 
position  was  lost,  and  at  length  the  whole  l^iglish  and  allied  army 
gave  way  all  along  the  line.  The  pursuit  was  furious  and  sanguin- 
ary, as  tiie  Allies  kept  tolerable  order,  and  fought  every  step  of  the 
way.  .  .  At  length  the  flying  army  of  William  arrived  at  tiie  little 
river  Gette ;  and  here  the  retreat  was  in  danger  of  becoming  a  total 
rout.  Arms  and  standards  were  flung  away,  and  multitades  of 
fugitives  were  chokiog  up  the  fords  and  bridges  of  the  river,  or  per- 
isMng  in  its  waters,  so  fiercely  did  the  victors  press  upon  their  rear. 
It  was  here  that  Patrick  Sarsfield,  Earl  of  Lucan,  who  had  that  day, 
mi  well  as  at  Steinkirk,  earned  the  admiration  Of  the  whole  Frenoh 


332  NOTES. 

army,  received  his  death-wound  at  the  head  of  his  men.  !  It  was  a 
happy  moment.  Before  he  fell  he  could  see  the  standards  of  Eng*- 
land  swept  along*  by  the  tide  of  headlong  flight,  or  traUing  in  the 
muddy  waters  of  the  Gette  ;  he  could  see  the  scarlet  ranks  that  he 
had  once  hurled  back  from  the  ramparts  of  Limerick,  now  rent  and 
riven,  fast  falling  in  their  wild  flight,  while  thQre  was  sent  pealing 
after  them  the  vengeful  shout,  '  Bemember  Limerick  ! ' " 

•  ••••  •  •  • 

''The  gallant  Justin  MacOarthy,  Lord  Mountcashel,  had  long 
been  dead,  having  fallen  on  the  held  of  Staff ardo,  under  Marshal 
Catinat,  in  1690 ;  where  '  The  Old  Brigade '  of  Irish  troops  had  been 
serving  in  the  French  army  before  the  surrender  of  Limerick.  The 
arrival  of  Sarsheld,  with  so  many  distinguished  of&cers  and  veteran 
troops,  gave  occasion  to  the  formation  of  the  '  New  Irish  Brigade  ; ' 
and  we  have  seen  with  how  much  distinction  that  corps  had  fought 
against  England  on  so  many  fields  of  the  Netherlanda  In  the  new 
war  which  followed  the  accession  of  Queen  Anne,  bodies  of  the  Irish 
forces  served  in  each  of  the  great  French  armies.  There  were  four 
regiments  of  cavalry,  Galway's,  Kilmallock's,  Sheldon's,  and  Clare's 
— the  last  commanded  by  O'Brien,  Lord  Clare, — constantly  em- 
ployed in  these  wars  ;  and  at  least  seven  regiments  of  infantry.  All 
these  corps  were  kept  more  than  fuU  by  new  arrivals  of  exiles  and 
emigrants. 

^'  It  will  afibrd  a  relief  from  the  irksome  tale  of  oppression  at 
home,  to  tell  how  some  of  these  exiles  acquitted  themselves  when 
they  had  the  good  luck  to  meet  on  some  foreign  field  either  English- 
men or  the  allies  of  England.  About  the  time  when  the  lawyers  of 
the  '  Ascendency '  were  elaborating  in  Dublin  their  bill  for  the  plun- 
der of  Catholic  widows  and  orphans,  it  happened  that  there  were  two 
regiments,  Dillon's  (one  of  Mountcashel's  old  brigade)  and  Burke's, 
called  the  Athlone  Regiment,  which  formed  part  of  the  garrison  of 
Cremona,  on  the  bank  of  the  Po.  The  French  commander  was  the 
Duke  de  Villeroy,  who  had  just  brought  his  whole  army  into  Cre- 
mona, after  an  unsuccessful  affair  with  Prince  Eugene  at  ChiarL 
Cremona  was  then,  as  it  is  now,  a  very  strong  fortified  town ;  and 
the  Duke  intended  to  rest  his  forces  there  for  a  time,  as  it  was  the 
depth  of  winter.  The  enterprising  Prince  Eugene  planned  a  sur- 
prise :  he  had  procured  for  himself  some  traitorous  intelligence  in 
the  town,  and  some  of  his  grenadiers  had  already  been  introduced 
by  a  clever  stratagem.  Large  bodies  of  troops  had  approached 
close  to  the  town  by  various  routes  ;  and  all  was  ready  for  the  grand 
operation  on  the  night  of  the  2d  of  February,  1702.  Vil^roy  and 
his  subordinates  were,  of  course,  much  to  blame  for  having  suf- 
fered all  the  preparations  for  so  grand  a  military  operation  to  be 
brought  to  perfection  up  to  the  very  moment  of  executioiL  The 
Marshal  was  peacefully  deeping :  he  was  awaked  by  volleys,  of  mus- 
ketry. He  dressed  and  mounted  in  great  haste ;  and  the  first  thing 
he  met  in  the  streets  was  a  squadron  of  Imperial  cavalry,  who 
made  him  prisoner,  his  captor  being  an  Austrian-Irish  officer  named 
MacDonneU.     Priifce  Eugene,  with  Counts    Stahrembeig,   Com- 


NOTES,  333 

xnerci,  and  seven  thonsand  men,  were  already  in  the  heart  of  the 
town,  and  oconpying  the  great  square.  It  was  four  o'clock  on  a 
February  morning,  when  all  this  had  been  accomplished ;  and 
Prince  Eugene  thought  the  place  already  won,  when  the  French 
troops  only  began  to  turn  out  of  their  beds,  and  dress.  The  alarm 
was  soon  given.  The  r^^ent  Des  Yaisseaux  and  the  two  Irish 
regiments  are  the  only  corps  mentioned  by  M.  de  Voltaire  as  having 
distinguished  themselves  in  turning  the  fortune  of  that  terrible 
morning ;  and  as  Voltaire  is  not  usually  favorable,  nor  even  just  to 
the  Iri^,  it  is  well  to  transcribe  first  h^  narrative  of  the  affair  : 

"  '  The  Chevalier  d'Entragues  was  to  hold  a  review,  that  day,  in 
the  town,  of  the  regiment  Des  Vaisseaux,  of  which  he  was  colonel ; 
and  already  the  soldiers  were  assembling  at  four  o'clock,  at  one  ez< 
tremity  of  the  town,  just  as  Prince  Eugene  was  entering  by  the 
other.  D'Entragues  begins  to  run  through  the  streets  with  the  sol- 
diers ;  resists  such  Germans  as  he  encounters,  and  gives  time  to  the 
rest  of  the.gajrison  to  hurry  up.  Ofl&cers  and  soldiers,  pell-meU. 
some  half-armed,  others  almost  naked,  without  direction,  without 
order,  fill  the  streets  and  public  places.  They  fight  in  confusion, 
intrench  themselves  from  street  to  street,  from  place  to  place, 
Two  Irish  regiments,  who  made  part  of  the  garrison,  arrest  the  ad- 
vance of  the  Imperialists.  Never  town  was  surprised  with  more 
skill,  nor  defended  with  so  much  valor.  The  garrison  consisted  of 
about  five  thousand  men  :  Prince  Eugene  had  not  yet  brought  in 
more  than  four  thousand.  A  large  detachment  of  his  army  was  to 
arrive  by  the  Po  bridge  :  the  measures  were  well  taken ;  bnt 
another  chance  deranged  all.  This  bridge  over  the  Po,  insuffi- 
ciently guarded  by  about  a  hundred  French  soldiers,  was  to  have 
been  seized  by  a  body  of  German  cuirassiers,  who,  at  the  moment 
Prince  Eugene  was  entering  the  town,  were  commanded  to  go  and 
take  possession  of  it.  For  this  purpose  it  was  necessary  that  hav- 
ing first  entered  by  the  southern  gate,  they  should  instantly  go  out- 
side of  the  city  in  a  northern  direction  by  the  Po  gate,  and  then 
hasten  to  the  bridg'e.  But  in  going  thither  the  guide  who  led  them 
was  killed  by  a  musket-ball  fired  from  a  window.  The  cuirassiers 
take  one  street  for  another.  In  this  short  interval,  the  Irish  spring 
forward  to  the  gate  of  the  Po :  they  fight  and  repulse  the  cuiras- 
siers. The  Marquis  de  Praslin  profito  by  the  moment  to  cut  down 
the  bridge  ;  and  the  town  was  saved.' 

"But  the  fighting  was  by  no  means  over  witii  the  repulse  of 
Count  Merci's  reinforcements:  a  furious  combat  raged  all  the 
znoming  in  the  streets :  and  Mahoney  and  Burke  had  still  much  to 
do.  At  last  the  whole  Imperialist  force  was  £nally  repulsed;  and 
the  soldiers  then  got  time  to  put  on  their  jackets.  Colonel  Burke 
lost  of  his  regiment,  seven  officers  and  forty-two  soldiers  killed,  and 
nine  officers  and  fifty  soldiers  wounded.  Dillon's  regiment,  com- 
manded that  day  by  Major  Mahoney,  lost  one  officer  and  forty-nine 
soldiers  killed,  and  twelve  officers  and  seventy-nine  soldiers  wounded. 

"  King  Louis  sent  formal  thaxkks  to  the  two  Irish  regiments,  and 
raised  their  pay  from  that  day.  ,.    . 


334  NOTES. 

**  In  the  campaigns  of  1703,  thellrish  had  afc  least  their  fall  share 
of  employment  and  of  honor.  Under  Vendome,  they  made  their  mark 
in  Italy,  on  the  fields  of  Yittoria,  Lnzzara,  Gassano,  and  Calcinato. 
On  the  Rhine,  they  were  still  more  distinguished;  especially  at 
Freidlingen  and  Spires,  in  which  latter  battle  a  splendidf  charge  of 
Nugent's  horse  saved  the  fortune  of  the  day.  After  this  year  the 
military  fortune  of  France  declined ;  but,  whether  in  victory  or  de- 
feat, the  Brigade  was  still  fighting  by.their  sid^ ;  nor  is  there  any 
record  of  an  Irish  regiment  having  behaved  badly  on  any  field. 

"  At  the  battle  of  Hochstet,  or  Blenheim,  in  1704,  Marshal  Tall- 
ard  was  defeated  and  taken  prisoner  by  Malborough  and  Eugene. 
The  French  and  Bavarians  lost  10,000  killed,  13,0(K)  prisoners,  and 
90  pieces  of  cannon.  Yet  amid  this  monstrous  disaster,  Clare's 
Dragoons  were  victorious  over  a  portion  of  Eugene's  famous  cavalry, 
and  took  two  standarda  And  in  the  battle  of  Bamillies,  in  1706, 
where  Villeroy  was  utterly  routed,  Clare's  Dragoons  attempted  to 
cover  the  wreck  of  the  retreating  French,  broke  through  an  Eng- 
lish regiment,  and  followed  them  into  the  throng^g  van  of  the 
Allies.  Mr.  Forman  states  that  they  were  generously  assisted  out 
of  this  predicament  by  an  Italian  regiment,  and  succeeded  in  carry- 
ing off  the  English  colors  they  had  taken  .=^ 

''At  the  sad  days  of  Oudenarde  and  Malplaquet,  some  of  them 
were  also  present ;  but  to  the  victories  which  brightened  this  time, 
so  dark  to  France,  the  Brigade  contributed  materially.  At  the  bat- 
tle of  Almanza  (13iJi  March,  1707,)  several  Irish  regiments  served 
under  Berwick.  In  the  early  part  of  the  day  the  Portuguese  and 
Spanish  auxiliaries  of  England  were  broken,  but  the  English  and 
Dutch  fought  suocessfully  for  a  long  time ;  nor  was  it  till  repeatedly 
charged  by  the  elite  of  Berwick's  army,  including  the  Irish,  tiiat  they 
were  forced  to  retreat.  3,000  killed,  10,000  prisoners,  and  120 
standards,  attested  the  magnitude  of  the  victory.  It  put  King 
Philip  on  the  throne  of  Spain. 

"  ia.  the  siege  of  Barcelona,  Dillon's  regiment  fought  with  great 
effect.  In  their  ranks  was  a  boy  of  twelve  years  old  ;  he  was  the 
son  of  a  Galway  gentleman,  lit.  Lally  or  O'Lally,  of  Tulloch  na 
Daly,  and  his  uncle  had  sat  in  James's  Parliament  of  1689.  This 
boy,  so  early  trained,  was  afterwards  the  famous  Count  Lally  de 
ToUendal,  whose  services  in  every  part  of  the  globe  make  his  execu- 
tion a  stain  upon  the  honor  as  well  as  upon  the  justice  of  Louis 
XVI. 

"  When  Villars  swept  off  the  whole  of  Albemarle's  battalions  at 
Denain,  in  1712,  the  Irish  were  in  his  van. 

"  The  treaty  of  Utrecht  and  the  dismissal  of  Marlborough  put  an 
end  to  the  war  in  Flanders,  but  still  many  of  the  Irish  continued  to 
serve  in  Italy  and  Germany,  and  thus  fought  at  Parma,  Guastalla, 
and  Philipsbnrg." 

The  action  of  the  Irish  at  Fontenoy  is  so  brilliantly  described  by 
Father  Burke,  in  his  lecture  on  the  "Exiles  of  Erin,"  that  it  is  un- 
necessary to  refer  to  it  in  these  Notes.  Of  the  Irish  in  Spain,  Mit- 
chel  says : — 


NOTES.  335 

''It  was  not  alone  in  the  French  service  that  onr  militarj  exiles 
won  renown.  The  O'Donnells,  O'Neills,  and  O'Reillys,  with  the 
relics  of  their  Ulster  clans,  preferred  to  fight  tinder  the  Spanish 
flag :  and  in  the  war  of  the  '  Spanish  Succession,'  Spain  had  five 
Irish  raiments  in  her  army;  whose  commanders  were  O'Eeillys, 
O'Garas,  Lacys,  Wogans,  and  Lawlesses.  For  several  generations  a 
succession  of  Irish  soldiers  of  rank  and  distinction  were  always  to  be 
found  under  the  Spanish  standard  ;  and  in  that  kingdom  those  who 
had  been  chie&  in  their  own  land  were  always  recognized  as  '  gran- 
dees,' the  equals  of  the  proudest  nobles  of  Castile.  Hence  the 
many  noble  families  of  Irish  race  and  name  still  to  be  found  in 
Spain  at  this  day.  The  Peninsular  War,  in  the  beginning  of  the 
present  century,  found  a  Blake  Generalissimo  of  the  Spanish 
armies ;  while  an  O'Neill  commanded  the  troeps  of  Aragon ;  and 
O'Donnells  and  O'Eeillys  held  high  grades  as  General  officers.  All 
these  true  Irishmen  were  lost  to  their  own  country,  and  were  forced 
to  shed  their  blood  for  the  stranger,  while  their  kindred  at  home  so 
much  needed  their  counsels  and  their  swords ;  but  it  was  the  settled 
policy  of  England,  and  the  English  colony,  now  and  for  long  after, 
to  make  it  impossible  for  men  of  spirit  and  ambition  to  live  in  Ire- 
land ;  so  that  the  remaining  masses  of  abject  people  might  be  the 
more  helpless  in  the  hands  of  their  enemies." 

The  Psalteb  of  Golumbkille. 

The  decision  of  King  Diarmid,  in  the  case  of  the  psalter  copied  by 
St.  Golumbkille  fnnn  that  of  St.  Finnian,  has  passed  into  a  proverb, 
which  stiU  remains  among  the  Gaelic-speaking  people  of  Ireland. 
The  exact  terms  of  the  verdict  were — Le  5<vc  bo^T)  <v  bo^t)fT),  le 
5<vc  leoib<vti  <v  le^bii^T),  ("  With  every  cow  (goes)  her  calf;  with 
every  book  its  copy.")  This  maybe  said  to  be  the  most  ancient 
decision  of  a  copyright  of  which  we  have  any  record ;  and,  singu- 
larly enough,  the  verdict  of  the  recognized  arbitrator  and  the  volume 
to  which  it  had  reference  have  both  been  handed  down  authenti- 
cally to  modem  times.  The  book — ^which  received  the  title  of  the 
C<vc<vc,  (CatJiuch)^  or  Psalter  of  Battle,  and  which  consists  of  fifty- 
eight  sheets  of  parchment,  bound  in  silver — was  preserved  by  the 
clan  of  the  O'Donnells  as  a  sacred  relic,  and  was  borne  by  them  in 
the  centre  of  their  ranks  in  all  their  warlike  raids  and  encounters. 

The  '  'Annals  of  the  Four  Masters  "  relate  that,  in  a  battle  fought  in 
1497,  between  the  O'Donnells  and  the  MacDermotts,  the  "  Catluich'''* 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  latter,  who,  however,  restored  it  in  1499. 
It  was  preserved  for  thirteen  hundred  years  in  the  O'Donnell  family, 
and  of  late  years  has  been,  by  its  last  owner,  placed  on  exhibition 
in  the  Museum  of  the  Royal  Irish  Academy.     The  late  Eugene 


336  NOTES. 

O'Curry,  in  his  very  excellent  work  on  the  **  Manuscript  Materials 
of  Irish  History,"  has  given  a  f ac-simile  of  a  fragment  of  this  MS. , 
which  he  does  not  hesitate  to  believe  is  in  the  handwriting  of  the 
Saint,  as  well  as  the  fine  copy  of  the  Gospels  called  the  Book  of  Kelia^ 
of  which  he  has  also  given  a  f  ac-simile. 

It  shonid,  however,  be  stated  that  the  contest  for  this  book  was 
not  the  sole  cause  of  feud  between  the  Hy-Nialls  of  Tyrconnell  and 
Diarmid,  who  represented  the  southern  branch  of  the  same  family. 
Between  these  two  septs  a  struggle  for  the  sovereignty  had  been 
going  on  for  generations,  with  such  equal  alternations  of  success 
and  defeat  on  both  sides,  that  of  seventeen  "  High  Kings"  of  the 
Southern  family,  and  ten  of  the  Northern  sept,  who  rfeigned  from 
time  to  time,  nearly  all  had  fallen  in  battle  or  by  violence,  or  had 
been  dethroned  in  the  prosecution  of  this  unrelenting  feud.  In  the 
case  of  Golumbkille,  there  was  a  special  provocation  in  addition  to 
the  judgment  which  Diarmid  had  pronounced  against  him.  The 
son  of  the  King  of  Connaught,  having  committed  an  involuntary 
homicide  (which,  according  to  the  Brehon  laws,  should  have  been 
atoned  for  by  an  "  eric"),  had  fled  for  refuge  to  the  monastery  of 
St,  Golumbkille ;  but  Diarmid,  in  violation  of  the  sanctuary  by 
which  the  fugitive  was  protected,  seized  and  put  him  to  death  ;  and 
when  Columbkille  denounced  this  invasion  of  the  Church's  immuni- 
ties, and  threatened  to  appeal  to  the  Irish  nation  against  his  tyranny, 
Diarmid  sent  orders  to  his  followers  to  arrest  and  detain  the  Saint 
also.  In  the  fight  that  followed,  the  King  of  Connaught  naturally 
made  common  cause  with  the  Ultonians ;  and  Diarmid  was  com- 
pletely defeated,  and  obliged  to  seek  shelter  in  Tara  until  he  could 
make  terms  with  his  adversaries. 


